Prophecy
by BlauWolf
Summary: Between In the Realms of the Gods and First Test Tortall is attacked and conquered. However, before all is lost Alanna's daughter gives a prophecy that predicts both Tortall's fall and its furture regain of power in the hands of six. The problem is, no o
1. Disclaimer and Prologue

Disclaimer:  All the places and the main characters belong to Tamora Pierce (basically anything you recognize).  I take credit only for the plot, the Gennature and a few unimportant people.  Thanks

Prologue

A nine-year old Keladry of Mindelan opened her eyes with a startled scream.  She sat up in bed and took deep breaths as her confused mind recovered from her nightmare.  It took her a moment to remember where she was as it always did after she had a nightmare.  You're in you room in Yamani, she told herself.  Memories flooded her already hazy mind.  A people called the Gennature had attacked Tortall.  The war had been long and costly, raging even in the Divine Realms, and had ended with Tortall's fall.  Kel and her family had remained in Yamani and her older brothers, Iness and Conal, had fled there as well.  The Yamani had granted them a permanent home and treated them as their own, but with some expectations.

Today, on Kel's ninth birthday, her family was bound for the harbor to help the Yamani turn away two shiploads of Tortallan refugees.  Such excursions always gave Kel nightmares.  The Yamani had taken in the first few refugees but now they turned them away, fearing aggressions from the belligerent Gennature, who had already conquered most of the eastern lands.  Two weeks ago, the refused refugees had started a riot.  

"Kel!  Breakfast is ready!"  Kel's sister, Adie, called.  Kel got hurriedly out of bed, pushing all thoughts of the nightmare to the back of her mind and taking on a much-practiced mask of calm.

A few minutes later Kel entered the dining room where the rest of her family already sat eating.  A plate of food was set in front of Kel and she used the cover of eating to look around at her two sisters, two brothers and parents.  Kel was silent through breakfast but no one seemed to notice.  She got half-hearted birthday wishes and it was clear that everyone's thoughts were on other things.  Kel didn't mind.  

The trip to the harbor was as subdued as breakfast had been.  The docks were already crowded when the Mindelans got there.  Kel stood between Iness and her mother, Ilane, while one of the two refugee ships was tied so that its nonhuman cargo could be unloaded.  The other ship, which carried only refugees, hadn't even been permitted into the harbor.

"Wait here."  Kel's father, Piers, told them all and went to talk to some Yamani officials, Conal at his heels.  Yamani soldiers tried to keep the refugees aboard the ship but they fought to get on land.

"Please!  We had a hard enough time getting out of Tortall."  Kel heard someone yell from the ship.  "We've got no place else to go."  Someone else screamed.  The crowd of refugees surged forward down the gangplank.  Iness drew Kel and her sisters further away.  Kel peered around her brother to see what was happening.

The refugees had managed to get off the ship and were now milling around the docks, yelling as the Yamani soldiers tried to hold them back.  A tall figure caught Kel's eye.  It was a woman in a black cloak with equally black hair and emerald eyes, her face perfect in its beauty.  Kel watched as the figure moved through the crowd, unable to pull her eyes away until they were drawn by a will of their own to the small figure at the woman's side.  A toddler clung to the woman's hand as they walked unnoticed to the edge of the crowd of refugees.  Unlike the woman, the toddler's hair was a light, reddish blonde and her eyes were a vibrant violet.  Her battered breeches and shirt contrasted with the woman's sleek coat and silk gown.  The pair walked to the edge of the crowd near where the Mindelans stood then the woman bent down to kiss the child's forehead and was gone.  Kel looked around but couldn't find the woman in the crowd anymore.  The toddler now stood by herself, blinking innocently around at the rest of the world.  Kel looked up and found that her mother was also watching the toddler, a frown in her eyes.  

"I'll just be a moment."  Ilane said as the refugees were forced back to the ship and the ropes were cut.

Ilane of Mindelan walked over to the girl and knelt in front of her.  Kel couldn't hear what was said but Ilane walked back with the child's tan hand in her fair one.  The argument between Ilane and Piers about the child was brief and that night she had a warm bath and full meal in their home.  She was quiet and couldn't answer any of their questions about her past.  The only identification she had was a thin, gold necklace with a flat pendant.  The front was inscribed in a language Kel didn't know but there was an engraving on the back written in Common and reading "May the Gods always watch over you and bless you, my Kitten."  So, although they named her Andera after Kel's oldest brother, who had died in the war, it was the nickname Kit that stuck with her.  


	2. Theives

A/N—Things will remain a little foggy for a while.  That's kind of part of the effect of the story (or at least the attempted effect.)  If anyone has any pressing questions, though, I'll try to explain.  Also, this stuff is all pretty new so if I need to do more editing before posting let me know.  Thanks.  

_6 year later—Port Caynn, Tortall_

_Spring, 457 H.E._

Young Liam Wilima moved unnoticed through the crowded streets.  He gently bumped shoulders with a passing merchant.  The younger boy walking in his wake took the confused moment to relieve the merchant of his purse before both boys continued on their way.  They were streets away from the merchant before he noticed his money was gone.

The two boys were clearly brothers with the same black hair, high foreheads and arched noses.  The elder had sapphire eyes that sparkled under long, black lashes.  He was tall and thin as was his brother, both with the look of growing boys who weren't getting quite enough to eat.  The younger boy, Jasson, tossed the purse from hand to hand, his hazel eyes dark with mischief.  Jasson tucked the purse away as a third dark haired figure joined them.  She, too, had a tall build and arched nose.

"Mornin' Lianne."  Jasson drawled as his sister fell in beside him.  She smiled and palmed two large purses.

"Mornin'."  The girl answered, tucking the purses away again.

"Give these to George."  Liam said as the boys handed their day's earnings to Lianne.

"Where ya off to?"

"There's a couple of big ships due in today.  We're goin' t'see if we can be of any use."  Liam answered.

"The docks can always use extra hands."  Jasson added with a smile.  "For a price, of course."

Lianne laughed.  "They'll pay ya for workin' and you'll lift anything ye can."  The boys shrugged.

"These nobles don't need half the things they own."  Jasson said.  Him and Liam turned, heading for the harbor.

Liam and Jasson took the most direct route to the pier, cutting thought the merchant and pauper districts.  No matter where they went, no one gave them a second glance.  Passing unnoticed was a particular talent all three of them possessed.  If they didn't, many of the people in Tortall might have noticed their strong resemblance to the Conté line that had ruled Tortall before the Conquering.  As it was, their ability to go unnoticed was very helpful.  They were thieves of all tricks, taught and raised by the best thief in all of Tortall, George Cooper.

Liam and Jasson lifted two more purses each and reached the harbor just in time to catch and tie the ropes of the second docking ship.  The goys jumped around unloading the ship with the grace and ease of experience and filling their pockets as they went.  One of the regular dockhands dropped a large trunk, spilling its expensive contents across the dirty pier.  Jasson was over there in the blink of an eye.

Fingers, long, tan and feminine, closed around his wrist as his hand closed over a small, ornate box.  Startled, Jasson looked up into intense, amethyst eyes.  He hadn't been caught in a long time, not even by George.

"And just what do you think you are doing?"  The girl demanded.  There was something very familiar about her face, the large nose and the shape of her mouth.  Jasson rocked back on his heels, still holding the box with her fingers around his wrist.

"Nothin' much."  Jasson drawled.  The girl arched one eyebrow up in skepticism and suddenly Jasson knew why she looked familiar.  "You look like George," he said calmly, "especially when you do that."  Jasson saw a sort of unsure recognition cross her face.  

"Who?"  She demanded, still not letting go of his wrist.  

"My guardian."  Jasson answered nonchalantly.  "Who are you?"  

"Andera of Mindelan and I won't have you stealing from my family."  With a gently flick of his wrist Jasson tossed the box at her.  She caught it then let go of Jasson's wrist.

"Is that _boy_," Jasson tensed at the man's tone; he'd never get used to people treating him like less the human, "giving you any trouble, Kit?"

"Kit?"  Jasson whispered, arching his left eyebrow then right.

Andera smiled, a broad, unguarded grin.  "No, Conal, I'm fine.  This dockhand was just helping pick up the trunk that spilled."  The man that eyed Jasson looked nothing like Andera.  He was big boned with light brown hair as opposed to Andera's reddish blonde hair and thin but sturdy build.  

"Well, if you need anything just holler."  Conal looked between Jasson and Andera then said something Jasson couldn't understand, bringing a forced smile to Andera's lips.  Jasson guessed the language was Yamani by the Yamani clothes they wore.

Conal left and Andera fixed her purple gaze back on Jasson.  She tossed the box to him.  Surprised, he barely caught it.  "Put it back."  Andera ordered then turned on her heel and stalked off.  Jasson thought about sticking the box in his pocket but dropped it back into the trunk instead.  

"Yes, my lady."  He called after her.

"What was that about?"  Liam asked, coming up behind him.

"Um, nothin'."  Jasson answered.  He couldn't tell Liam some blue-blooded girl had been quicker then him.  "Lift anything good?"  Jasson asked to change the subject.

"Yep."  Liam said.  "Lets get out of here."  Jasson nodded and as they walked away Jasson looked over his shoulder but couldn't see Andera.

Liam walked with his head tilted back, staring at the sky.  "If we went down Baker's Lane at this time we could make some more money."  Liam proposed.  Jasson thought about it a moment then shook his head, his pockets already full.

"Lets just call it a day.  We were out all night already."

"Ok."  Liam answered and they turned off the main street.  It was late afternoon and there were few people in the streets but those who the boys did pass were relieved of their wealth.

The boys' destination was a small inn on the water.  They went in the back, though the kitchen then straight up the stairs.  They had three rooms among them, with Jasson and Liam sharing.  They opened a door at the end of the hall into a lived-in looking room.  There was a small bed pushed into each corner bordering the one window and only source of light.  The beds were draped with ratty, flea-ridden blankets.  Everything in the room was secondhand, including the empty trunk by the door.  The boys emptied their pockets into the trunk.  "I'm goin t'go grab something t'eat."  Liam said, tossing his coat onto one of the beds.  Jasson nodded but he wasn't listening.  He was thinking about the purple-eyed girl and he had some questions for George.  Jasson followed Liam out of the room and went across the hall to rap on the door.

"He's out."  Lianne said, coming up the stairs.  "I'm goin' back out."  Jasson nodded again, still not listening.  Jasson turned to the hall window and climbed out, walking sure-footedly across the roof and jumping to the ground.

"That's some entrance, Jay.  What's wrong with the door?"  A light drawl greeted Jasson.

"It's boring."  Jasson explained to the man that leaned against the inn's porch railing.  He was tall and broad shouldered with light brown hair, laughing hazel eyes slightly darker then Jasson's and a large nose identical to the girls.  

"You only say that when somethin's bothering you.  Come on up, lad."  George gestured to the railing.  Jasson jumped nimbly up and sat, kicking his legs.  "Did I teach you all that?"  

Jasson nodded.  "And don't tell me I was born with somethin' better in store.  It clearly don't mater now."

"I only said that once.  What's on your mind?"  George asked kindly.

"I got caught t'day."  Jasson jumped right in, able to tell George anything.  "By a girl of about nine, my age."  George raised an eyebrow in surprise.  "She made me wonder some things."

"Oh, I was wondering when this would come up.  Be careful with your questions, Jasson, and I'll give you the best answers I can."

Jasson looked at George in surprise.  "How do you know what I was goin' t'ask about?"  He demanded.

"It was in your tone, lad.  You want t'know who you are."

"I suppose all orphans ask that eventually."  Jasson paused.  "So, who am I?"  

George shook his head.  "Be more careful and precise, please."

"Why are you takin' care of us?"

George sighed and his eyes were distant.  "Your father asked me to."

"He must have been very powerful t'order somethin' like that.  Who was he to you?"

"He was my friend."  George said without hesitation.  "The best one I ever had besides my wife."  Jasson gawked.  George had never spoken about his wife before, though Jasson had long ago notice the wedding ring he wore.  Jasson considered his next comment carefully.  He knew he was treading on uncharted ground and that George's guard was up.  

"You don't want me asking these things."  He said flatly.

George took a long time to respond but he never broke eye contact with Jasson.  "There are some things you shouldn't know about your past, Jasson.  At least not yet."

Jasson nodded.  He found the reply strangely acceptable for the time being.  "Do you have any kids, George?"

"I have two sons and a daughter."  George answered, his eyes distant again.

"Then why are you takin' care of us and not 'em?"

Again George didn't hesitate before answering.  "Because my sons are in good hands and you have no one else.  Because your father asked me to."

"Can you tell me stories about him, both my parents?  Not about what they did, just what kind of people they were."  

"Sure, lad."  George answered and, hopping up onto the rail beside Jasson, he began to tell him about the kinds of people Jonathan and Thayet of Conté were.


	3. Meetings

A/N—Things will remain a little foggy for a while.  That's kind of part of the effect of the story (or at least the attempted effect.)  If anyone has any pressing questions, though, I'll try to explain.  Also, this stuff is all pretty new so if I need to do more editing before posting let me know.  Thanks.  

_Corus, Tortall_

_Spring, 457 H.E._

Queen Thayet, the disempowered queen of Tortall, put a black cloak on over her violet gown, drawing it tight around her to cover every inch of the purple silk.  She put the hood up, covering her shoulder-length, raven hair.  Despite the fact that life offered her very little joy any more her hazel eyes still sparkled and she carried herself with her head high.  Thayet glanced around the room then opened a passage in the wall, disappearing into the shadows. 

Thayet came out in a small library where another dark figure waited for her, his hood still up hiding his face.  Thayet checked to make sure the door was locked before turning to the man.  They both took their hoods down at the same time.  The man was tall and broad shouldered with light brown hair and brownish green eyes.

"Good evening, Thayet."  The man greeted.

"Gary."  Thayet gave as a return greeting.  "Have a seat."  She offered as she sat down herself.  Gary didn't take the seat.  "This can't be good news."  Thayet said and Gary grinned sadly.

"It's no news."  He replied then went on to explain.  "We believe that Liam, Jasson and Lianne are still with George but we haven't had any luck finding them.  George is good at hiding and he's careful.  If your children are with him, they'll be safe and they'll turn up when it's time.  We're not having any better luck finding Roald.  We've followed a few leads but they've all dead-ended.  That spell Numair put on them works, maybe a little too well.  Anyone who doesn't already know them for who they are, really are, hardly notices them.  It makes them very hard to track down."

Thayet's expression didn't change as Gary gave her the news; it was always the same.  "We are following leads that say Raoul and Alanna are living with the Bazhir, separately.  Those leads are going to be hard to follow with the tribes warring more then they did before Jon became the Voice.  Along those lines, we still don't know who the current Voice is.  I put agents in both Persopolis and Tyra where the tribes do most of their trading. If Raoul or Alanna go to the market we'll have a chance of finding them.  Until then we just wait.

"There have been leads on Buri in Corus but the last one was before our last meeting.  We found the remains of the Queenscove family living in Port Legann.  I've got an agent with them now.  Baird has been working as a healer since they were turned away from the Yamani Islands."

Thayet smiled.  She loved getting good news and it was so rare.  "What about Alianne?"

Gary shook his head.  "Nothing.  Does His Gennature still believe she is dead?"

"He says that but he's got men looking still.  She worries him."  Thayet added with a cruel smile.

"Well, hopefully we'll find her first."  Gary paused.  "The rumors say the gods took her.  We have to be open to the possibility that she's not on this world anymore."

Thayet shook her head.  "She's in her own prophecy.  She has to still be here."

"It could be a different seer."  Gary proposed delicately.  "We don't know for sure the identity of any person in the Prophecy."

"So you haven't made any progress on that either."

"We're still working on it, trying to find hidden meanings."  Gary paused then continued, his voice stern.  "You have to give us more time, Thayet."

"I've given you six years!  It's time to find them."  Thayet snapped.  Gary didn't flinch at her sharp tone.  He was accustom to being around monarchs in all types of moods.

"I know, Thayet."  Gary said with understanding.  A look of guilt crossed Thayet's face.

"I'm sorry, Gary.  Have you had any luck finding your sons and daughters?"

Gary shook his head.  "Not anymore luck then I've had with yours.  It makes me appreciate having Gary even more."  

"How is he?"

"He's doing fine.  He's a great help with the inn and he's beginning to help out with finding people.  He'll be a first class agent when he's older and he can't wait.  He's nothing like I was at that age."  Gary said with a smile.

"How old is he now?  Seven?  Eight?"

"He's almost seven."

"Seven is a nice age.  Roald was such a cute seven-year-old and bright too."  Thayet said, a slight strain in her voice.

"We'll find him, Thayet."  Gary assured her.  Thayet nodded and stood, pulling her hood back up.

"I'll see you next month, Gary.  Take care of yourself."  Thayet said, opening the passage door.

"Good bye."  Gary bid before also leaving the room.  Gary walked through the palace, looking at everything as he passed.  It had been six years since he had been Duke Gareth of Naxen.  He'd been back to the palace regularly since then but it still felt strange to him to be there and not be Prime Minister.  Though the halls looked mostly the same as they had six years ago, signs of the Gennature were everywhere as well.  Gary took a path that led him by his old quarters where the current Prime Minister lived, a Gennature noble who had greatly improved his status by moving to Tortall.

Gary left the palace and began to feel much more comfortable.  Most of Corus had been burned when the Gennature took over and was currently being rebuilt.  Gary left through the main palace gate to what used to be known as Temple District.  The district was now a sort of no-man's-land between the city of Corus and the palace.  The charred remains of Temple District gradually grew into large run-down buildings between smaller, newly built ones.

Gary continued down the main street of Corus.  After a block and a half he reached an inn with a painted blue sign that said "Cythera's House."  It was a new building built on the remains of a much larger one.  Gary went around to the back of the building and into the kitchen.

"Hullo Master Gary."  The cook, a big, burly man with muscles that looked like they should belong to a blacksmith, greeted him cheerfully.  "How was yer jaunt to t'palace?"  

"Uneventful."  Gary answered.

"The dark man is here for you."  The cook said.

"How long?"

"He's been waitin' awhile.  He's down below."  Gary nodded.  He ran his fingers along the wall beside the oven until he felt a latch and pulled the camouflaged door open.  It swung outward to expose a small landing and stairway.  Gary went down the stairs into the basement leftover from the building that had stood on the site before the war.  The basement was one large room where the stair emerged with a smaller room in the far corner.  Candles along the walls and on tables supplied the only light for the windowless room and as a result the air was stuffy and think with smoke.  The large room had a few long tables, an old, gray couch, two over-stuffed, brown armchairs and shelves of old, dusty books.  A man with dark hair, eyes and skin sat at one of the tables, his feet propped on one of the chairs.  On the floor beside him sprawled a young boy, thin and bony with light brown hair and brown eyes.  A book lay open in front of the boy but he was talking to the man instead of reading.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Ihra.  I wasn't expecting you until later."  The man turned, the lines around his eyes creasing in a slight smile.  

"It's alright.  Your son, here, was keeping me entertained.  He knows quite a lot about the Prophecy."  Ihra answered.  Young Gary started reading, apparently ignoring the adults.

"That he does.  I hope your earliness means you have good news."

Ihra shook his head, his smile lines disappearing.  Gary crossed the room and opened the door to the smaller one, gesturing for Ihra to go inside before closing the door.  Gary the Younger stood up and moved with his book to lean against the wall by the door. 

The smaller room was an office with a square table in the center and a desk against one wall.  Maps and documents covered the table and desk.  A large map of Tortall covered the wall across from the desk.  It had hundreds of different colored pins in it.  The rest of the walls were covered with smaller maps and similar pins.  The area of wall directly behind the door had a piece of aged paper tacked to it, names and family trees written on it in small, neat letters.  Beside that was another piece of parchment, just as old, on which these words were written in the same neat, black letters:

_Gennature Prophecy—_

_When the day of death has come _

_Again ten times_

_Will the sky of the east again burn red_

_The waters of Tortall again flow red_

_With six of power_

_The people will retake the Great Land._

_The rightful king shall lead the six_

_Blue and silver and gold_

_He carries the things of the forgotten time._

_At his right shall walk a woman warrior_

_Twice noble_

_Hazel-eyed dreamer but sharpened fighter._

_Another of the six shall be the seer_

_Kitten of Tortall_

_Purpled-eyed fighter with silver edged Gift._

_One of five and one of many is the thief_

_The People's Choice_

_The black-haired wanderer shall he be._

_The oldest of the six and youngest son_

_Green healer_

_All sides shall benefit from his Gift._

_The last and youngest is a scholar_

_Boy of books_

_The son of the Finder he will know the six._

_Only with the Power of the six_

_Secrets of six_

_Will the demon be driven back_

_The seventh day shall see a battle_

_Where Gods' return_

_And where Tortall will reign again._

_~Spoken by Alianne Cooper at Fief Treabond, 451 H.E.~_

"If the news isn't good then what is it?"  Gary asked, leaning his weight against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest.  He was trying to hide his unease.  Ihra was his leading agent on identifying the six in the Prophecy

"One of the women we were tracking as the warrior died last week, one of the former Riders.  It was natural."  Ihra assured Gary, seeing his pained expression.

"That means we are down to eight people who could fit that description."  Gary sighed.  "What about the healer?"

"Still stuck at four people."  Ihra answered.  "And the rest we still know very little about.  We will, though, Gary.  I can feel it."


	4. Bond Servant

_Persopolis, Tortall_

_Spring Equinox, 457 H.E._

The market place in Persopolis was crowded, mostly with the turbaned Bazhir.  The only light skinned people were the merchants, who were busy setting up booths in the predawn.  Even though the market hadn't opened yet, the Bazhir mingled, watching the northern merchants prepare their wares.

A man, his skin naturally lighter then the Bazhirs' but heavily tanned, intently watched this process.  He was dressed in a tan colored turban and worn, brown breeches.  He wore a sword openly on his waist, with the insignia from the Raven Amery on its plain hilt.  His coal black hair and dark brown eyes allowed him to blend in with the other Bazhir.  The cart he watched was loaded with fine weapons, many imported from Yamani, armor and artifacts from before the Gennature.  Though he was an old knight, Raoul of Goldenlake didn't watch the wares but the youth that was unloading them.

He looked to be about seventeen, with a large, broad-shouldered build and muscles hardened by heavy work.  He had black hair, cut shorter then fashion demanded, and fair skin.  His sapphire eyes were framed by long, black lashes and veiled both intelligence and a secret sadness.  The youth did his work with the grace of practice.  No one, other then Raoul, gave him the slightest notice.  Even the merchant who employed him often forgot he was there.  He, however, knew that the reason for this peculiarity was a spell and not a flaw in his character.  He remembered everything about his life before the Conquering, which had been quite different, including the spell the great mage Numair had put on him and his siblings that would keep people from noticing them unless their true identities were known.  As Roald Wilima, he was an unnoticeable bondservant.  As Roald of Conté, he was the disempowered heir to the Tortallan throne.

Raoul inched closer to the cart and booth where Roald worked.  "Boy."  The merchant called.  There was no menace in his tone but Raoul winced at the unkindness of the title.  Roald looked up, his blue eyes betraying no emotion.

"Yes sir?"

"Leave the keepsakes in the cart.  These men aren't interested in legends of Tortall."

"Yes sir."  Roald's voice remained flat and expressionless.  The sun broke over the walls of Persopolis as he spoke, officially opening the market.  A thick crowd had already formed around the merchant's booth and Raoul joined it.  He ran his fingers over a particularly fancy sword but his real attention remained on Roald, who was now busying himself with polishing armor.  Raoul wandered over to the cart and leaned on the side, glancing over the wares inside.  Roald flicked his gaze in Raoul's direction, still working.

"What can I help you with, sir?"  Roald asked in the same flat tone Raoul had heard him use earlier.  "You can't be looking for a sword.  Even the Yamani weapons we import don't compare with old Raven work."  The dryness in his voice contrasted his words so much it took Raoul a moment to process what he had said.  "We have other tings like it, keepsakes form before the Conquering.  Perhaps you are looking for something you lost."

"Bond servitude doesn't suit you."  Raoul replied pleasantly but quietly.

"It suits me fine."  

"Not with a sharp tong like that.  I don't recall you being so hostile.  You might have just cost your master a fair sum."

"You weren't going to buy."  Roald said confidently.  He set aside the plate armor he'd polished to a mirror shine and exchanged it for a shield.

"As a matter of fact, I am looking to buy today.  You see, a good friend of mine lost something very important to him in the Conquering.  He saved my life and I've yet the chance to repay him."

"You think finding and buying this lost _thing_ will repay your debt."  Roald's tone had lost some of its hostility.  "That's an interesting notion.  The way I remember it, you weren't around when he was killed."

Raoul tensed at the renewed sharpness of Roald's tong.  "No, I wasn't."  They were quiet for a long while, Roald expertly putting a shine on the shield and Raoul absently picking at the wares.  

"Boy!"  The bellowing voice broke into their quiet ruminations.  Raoul looked in the merchant's direction but Roald simply waited for a command.  "Bring over those three short-swords with the blue hilts."

"Yes sir."  Roald jumped off the edge of the cart where he'd been perched and set aside his polishing tools.  He grabbed the three swords and stopped beside Raoul.

"Don't do anything.  A merchants life is good here."  

Raoul stared, not believing what he heard.  "If you ever work your way out of servitude."

"I will."  Roald said, glancing at the merchant.  "And I want to do it myself."

Suddenly, Raoul understood what Roald was trying to say.  "Well, when you're a successful merchant, drop by and day hello.  I'm riding with the Desert Ravens."

"I'll remember.  Good bye, Sir Raoul."

"Good luck, Prince Roald."


	5. Departure

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.

_Port Legann, Tortall_

_Late Spring, 457 H.E._

"Hey Meathead, are you coming or not?"  Domitan, formally of Masbolle, stuck his head through the door and called to his cousin.  The infirmary that his uncle ran was empty except for a young man sitting on a bed reading.  They both had handsome faces with light brown hair that flopped down across their foreheads.  Dom's eyes were a laughing light blue, Neal's a sparkling green.

"I think I'll stay here."  Neal answered in an uninterested drawl.

"And read?"  Dom said, his tone unbelieving.  "You'd rather sit here by yourself and read?"

"Of course."

Dom came all the way into the room.  He grabbed the book from Neal's hands, tossing it onto a bed on the other side of the room.  Neal jumped up and lunged for it but Dom easily held him back.

"You're coming with us.  We're going to get you drunk and you are going to socialize with all the pretty girls and _not_ talk about books."

"It sounds great."  Neal said, resigned to his fate.

Dom draped his arm across Neal's shoulder.  "It will be.  See, the way I see it, it's about time you settled down and took a wife."  He steered Neal out of the infirmary and down the street.

"Married?"

"Well, we aren't nobles any more.  Most commoners marry by the time they're fifteen, sixteen, maybe seventeen."

"I'd only been a commoner for two years when I turned sixteen.  What's your excuse for still being a bachelor?"

"It's more fun."  Dom said with a laugh.  "And I'm still holding out for us recreating the Own."

"Yeah, right after we resurrect King Jonathan."  Neal replied sarcastically.

"You're in a very cynical mood today, Neal.  Is there any particular reason?"

"Not anything new."

"You're worried about the Gennature's treatment of healers."  Dom said, his tone subdued a bit.  Neal shrugged.  "I take it the news Uncle brought back from Corus wasn't good."

"You know there aren't any healers in Corus except for at the palace and two carefully monitored public houses?"  Neal replied bitterly.

"But that's just Corus, Neal.  The Gennature king isn't going to do that throughout Tortall.  He can't, so stop worrying.  We're supposed to be celebrating."

"Celebrating what?"

"I don't know.  We'll have to figure that out."  While they'd been talking they'd been walking across Port Legann and now they were deep in the city outside a busy looking tavern called Rider's Own.  The tavern was mostly occupied by young men but a few young women mingled within them.  Dom pushed his way in, dragging Neal behind him.  He found someone he recognized, a dark skinned, dark eyed Bazhir dressed in worn but sturdy clothes, and made his way towards him.

"Dom!"  The Bazhir greeted.  "I haven't seen you around here in a few days."

"The infirmary has been busy, Qasim.  Is the Commander around?"

"She's with a class."  Qasim answered quietly.

"Thanks Qasim.  Could you find Neal something to celebrate?"

"Sure."

Dom left them together and made his way to a small door in the back.  The door opened into a courtyard, walled in by buildings on two sides and a tall wall of reddish sandstone on the other two.  The courtyard floor was packed dirt currently occupied by a dozen young men and women.  A short, dark-haired woman in her forties was instructing the group in combat.  Dom leaned against the wall of the Tavern and watched as they worked.  There were no windows looking out on the courtyard and only the door from the tavern.  It was mid afternoon so the sun lit the courtyard over the wall and buildings, stretching the shadows of the fighters.  The woman set her class to sparing when she noticed Dom and walked over to him.

"I was wondering when you'd stop by, Sergeant Dom."  The woman said in friendly greeting.

"I'd heard you got back but couldn't get away.  Uncle has been keeping us all busy."

"What could your Uncle need of an unprincipled whelp like you in an infirmary?"  She replied in a teasing way.

Dom smiled.  "He finds things for me to do even though I can't heal.  He extended an invitation to dinner if you're free."

"I'd love to.  Care to join our practice?"

"I need to talk to you first, Buri."  Dom's tone made her drop her smile and look at him sharply.  "It's about Queen Thayet and Gareth of Naxen."  Buri nodded consent and led the way back inside, leaving the fighters to themselves.

They sat down at an empty table where Qasim and Neal joined them.  The noise from the crowd would keep them from being overheard but they leaned close to each other to talk anyway.

"Uncle just got back form a long trip to Corus.  He was there most of the spring."  Dom started.  "While he was gone a man stopped by the infirmary looking for him.  This man, who has been staying with us, is an associate of Gareth of Naxen."  Qasim caught his breath.

"Have either of you ever heard of 'the Finder' or 'Cythera's Home'?"  Neal asked into the silence that followed.  Both Buri and Qasim nodded.  Neal smiled.  "He's Gareth.  Cythera's Home is the inn he runs as a base of operations for finding people of all classes."

"The Queen asked him to track down Uncle and the man that came to us was one of his agents."

"We talked with him a lot about who else he's found and who else he's looking for."

"Thayet is looking for me."  Buri broke in.  Dom nodded.  "Don't tell the agent I'm here."

"She'll be wanting to hear from you."  Neal argued.

"And so I shall go to Corus myself.  It's about time anyway."  Stunned silence followed her remark.  "Qasim, Dom, you'll take care of things here while I'm away."  

"We always do."  Qasim replied but Dom shook his head.

"I'm coming with you."  He said forcefully.  "I've got some inquiries of my own I'd like to make."

"You know I travel alone, Dom."

Dom grinned.  "Then I'll meet you there."

"I'm going too."  Neal interrupted.

"Neal, I don't think—"  Dom and Qasim said together.

"I promise I won't heal anyone while I'm there."  Neal cut them off and before Dom could argue further Buri spoke.

"Alright, you may," she eyed Qasim, who shook his head rather reluctantly, "_both_ come."


	6. Mindelan

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.

_Mindelan, Tortall_

_Summer 457_

Andera fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot.  Her face was pleasant, soft cream in color and flawless in texture.  Her purple eyes flashed continually with emotions that weren't shown in any other lines of her face.  She ran her tong over her lips and absently messed with long, blonde locks.  

"Staring at you reflection for hours isn't going to change it, Kit.  Believe me, I've tried."  Andera whirled around, her violet Tortallan style skirt spinning out around her and brushing against the mirror.  Her oldest sister, Oranie, stood in the doorway.  Her light brown hair was in ringlets and face paint accented her hazel eyes and long lashes.  She had delicate facial features and a short stature draped in a yellow Tortallan dress.

"I wasn't trying to change it, Anie.  I fit in much better here, anyway."  Oranie moved to stand beside Andera.

"I miss Yamani, too."  Oranie's voice was full of sympathy.  They stood together in silence.  

"May we join you?"  A sweet, musical voice said from the open doorway.  Kel and Adie, both in Tortallan dresses, came into the room.  Adie was built and featured like Oranie but taller.  Kel, at only fifteen, was taller then Adie and broad across the shoulders.  Her brown hair was cut to her shoulders, the minimum length allowed by law.  She looked distinctly uncomfortable in the fancy gown.  

"Are they here yet?"  Oranie asked.

"No, and we are supposed to be down when they arrive.  Show good lady behavior."  Adie's tone was heavy with sarcasm.  Andera smiled at her sister, as sarcasm was her favorite form of expression.  "How are we supposed to entertain and host the people who took over our country?"

"They are coming to formally welcome us, Adie.   The _king_ requested we return and sent his men to greet us."  Oranie replied calmly.

"Into our own home!"  Adie demanded scornfully.

"I agree with Adie."  Andera whispered, moving to be by Kel and standing on tiptoe to reach the older girl's ear.

"We all do, but we know better then to say it."  Kel's voice was as calm as Oranie's.

Andera's eyes alighted with mischief, a look Kel had long ago learned to be wary of.  "I have to tell you something."

"Do I want to know?"  Kel whispered under Oranie and Adie's conversation.

"We can still practice glaive and anything else for that matter."  Kel fixed her surprised, hazel gaze on Andera.  "The law only forbids teaching females how to fight and females using or carrying weapons in public.  You and I have already been instructed and there's no law keeping us from practicing in our own home."  Kel couldn't help but smile.

"Ladies."  A voice called from down the hall.  They filed out of the room, their faces set in Yamani masks of calm, betraying no emotions.  The sitting room was immaculate, the rest of the family arranged around it in grand dress.  Iness, the oldest in the family, caught Andera's arm as she passed him.  Andera stopped and smiled up at him.

Iness looked back down at her, his eyes stern.  "You'll be good, Kit."

"Yes Iness."  Andera promised.  "I'll behave.  I won't say a thing."

"Alright."  Just then the maid they had charged with watching for their guests ran in.  

"They're here."  Ilane declared.  Andera shrank back into the corner of the room with Kel as Piers and Iness went out to greet their visitors.  The five Gennature men were led into the sitting room and Piers ran the introductions.  Andera stepped forward and curtsied when her name was mentioned but she kept her eyes to the ground, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.  Only Kel and Iness noticed this unusual meekness.  After introductions, the Gennature paid little attention to the youngest girls so they fled to the courtyard.

They sat down in the grass, their skirts spread carelessly around them.  Kel leaned back against the wall and Andera lay on the grass in the shade, her head on her arms.  She closed her eyes, forcing her mind and body to relax.  Since arriving in Tortall her nerves had been on edge, especially with the arrival of the Gennature.  Kel watched Andera through lowered eyelashes, trying to hide her worry.  The whole family had noticed Andera's decreased appetite and withdrawn mood but she had avoided all their questions as to the cause.  Now her skin was pale under her tan and her eyes had dark circles under them.  She wore an expression of intense concentration.

"Are you alright?"  Kel asked after awhile.  She wasn't expecting an answer but Andera surprised her.

"I don't know how to explain it, but no."   Andera's tone was calm but it caught Kel's full attention.  She had learned long ago to trust Andera's strange instincts.

"What's bothering you?"

"Being in Tortall and _them_."  She gestured towards the house.  "Everything here just feels—I don't know—unstable."  She paused and opened her eyes, rolling over on her stomach so she could peer up at Kel through her eyelashes.  "You know those nightmares I have sometimes, the ones that wake me up but that I can't remember?"  Kel nodded.  "I've been having them almost every night since we got here.  I woke Iness up last night and he came in and asked me what was wrong but I couldn't even tell him I was shaking so badly.  And the thing that gets to me is I can't remember any of it, like the void in my memory before being with you in Yamani."

"Do you think they are connected?"  Kel asked.

Andera shrugged and frowned.  "I don't know.  When I wake up it's like there's something in my head that I should know but I just can't reach it."  Andera struggled to explain what she meant.  "Do you want to go for a ride?"  She asked, her tone suddenly bright and carefree.  "I've been trying to familiarize myself with the land around Mindelan."

"Alright."  Kel answered, standing up and pulling Andera to her feet.

The stables were crowded with the addition of the Gennature's horses.  Kel picked a large, mud brown stallion she had been riding since they had gotten to Mindelan.  He was old and stubborn but had a gentle nature.  Andera had also found a favorite horse upon arrival at Mindelan.  She was a tall and thin roan mare.  She had green eyes, odd on a horse, and was just old enough to be ridden.  She was curious and energetic but well mannered.  Andera had named her Emerald.  They put bridles and bareback blankets only on the animals.

"We're supposed to have an escort if we leave the grounds."  Andera reminded Kel.  "I promised Iness I'd be good today."

"Well, who do you usually take?  You've been riding everyday."  Andera handed Emerald's reigns to Kel.

"I'll see if he's willing."  Andera ducked back into the stable and climbed up to the hayloft.  A young man of about thirteen lounged in the hay, looking up when he heard Andera coming.  He had thick red hair, long and messy with hay mixed in.  Light, small freckles covered his heart-shaped face, small, bony nose and high cheekbones.  He had green eyes, a look of mischief always present in them.  He was stretched out on his back, thin legs bent at the knees and his arms making a pillow behind his head.

"Ya goin' out?"  He asked, his voice cracking and jumping octaves.  He frowned and coughed while Andera laughed.  

"Yes, Kel and I want to go riding."

"I thought you'd be inside entertain' them Gennature all day."  His voice had regained its normal melodic tenor.

"We escaped.  Are you coming or not, Daecon?"  

Daecon got lazily to his feet.  "Sure."  He jumped down from the hayloft and Andera climbed after him.  He put a blanket and bridle on one of the huge, gentle-natured carthorses.  "Where are ya goin'?"  His voice cracked again.  

"Somewhere new."  Andera replied, walking next to Daecon as he led the horse out to Kel.  "Kel, this is Daecon, one of the stable boys here.  Daecon, Lady Keladry."  Daecon bowed, sweeping his arm out in an exaggerated movement.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, milady.  I'll be your escort for the evening."

"Pleasure."  Kel replied, noting the look in his eyes that was so much like Andera's.  _At least the ride will be interesting_.  Kel thought, mounting her horse.  _Though I think it's going to lead to trouble._  Andera and Daecon also mounted up and the three of them trotted nonchalantly through the gate.  They picked their way to the creek that ran through the forest outside of Mindelan's walls and followed it north.  Daecon led them along the twisting bank, riding in the water when the footing became too steep.  Kel followed him and Andera brought up the rear, diligently committing every inch of the countryside to memory.  When the ground flattened out, Kel rode up beside Daecon, leaving Andera to herself.

"Is this your normal route?"  She asked, gesturing back the way they had come.

"No, milady."  

"It's just Kel."  Kel broke in.

"Well, it's always 'some place new' with that one."  He nodded his head to Andera.  Kel looked over her shoulder.  Andera's eyes were in constant motion, taking in everything while her face remained blank.  "There's somethin' different 'bout her, too?  She doesn't talk much, just watches.  The other day she knew ahead that Merric's gang was commin' so we could get off the road."

"Merric?"  Kel asked, partly to change the subject.  The family tried to keep Andera's Sight and strong Gift secret.

"He's a village kid who doesn't like me much.  Can't imagine why."  Daecon was quiet for a moment then started again in a whisper.  "She's memorizin' it, the country and the town.  I just don't know why.  We go on rides so she can see the land and sometimes she'll climb up to the loft and listen t'all the gossip I know—askin' questions when I ain't clear enough.  I wouldn't tell the lady, I mean Lady Tilaine, any of it but Andera's motives are different then most nobles.  So are yours."  

"How do you figure that?"

Daecon smiled.  "You ain't ridin' sidesaddle, lady."  Kel smiled as well.  "Would you mind tellin' me about t'Islands?  Andera just has me talk and I'm curious."

"I don't mind in the least."  Kel said and searched her memory for a good Yamani tale to tell.  Kel had gone through three stories and answered a dozen questions when they came out onto a road that cut through the trees.  It went over the creek in a well-made stone bridge and wound away in both directions.  Daecon reigned up his horse and Andera caught up to them.

"Where does it go that way?"  Andera asked, nodding up the road across the bridge.

"Scanra eventually."  Daecon replied with a shrug.  "The old boarder was a lot closer but now there's miles of forests full of roving bandit tribes.  Only big, heavily armed groups venture far in that direction."  

"Are you saying it was actually safer before the Gennature conquered both our lands?"  Kel asked.  

Daecon nodded.  "Like the south."

"And the town's that way?"  Kel waved her hand down the road in the opposite direction.

"Yep, it connects to the Great Road North, through Treabond and into Corus, past Corus you go into a lot of unfriendly territory to Port Legann."

"You sure know a lot about roads for a stable boy."  Andera commented dryly.

"I like maps."  Daecon replied.

"I do, too, but they don't have many Tortallan maps in Yamani.  At least—"

"Are there spidrens in these woods?"  Andera's voice was detached and hallow, a tone Kel was very familiar with.

"Loads but you needn't worry, ladies; they normally stay away from the castle and…" Daecon trailed off when he realized neither girl was listening.  Kel was tensely scanning the trees and Andera had her eyes tightly closed, her whole body rigid.  "Um."  Daecon started but as he did Andera turned her mare and started at a gallop over the bridge.  Kel and Daecon followed directly behind her.  As Kel turned her horse she saw a long, black leg feel out onto the road.  The spidren's human head followed its incest leg and it saw the riders start out across the bridge.  Daecon looked over his shoulder as the spidren stalked out to the open road.

"Watch out!"  He yelled.  Andera and Kel glanced over their shoulders.  The spidren rose up on its hind legs, exposing its spinner.  Andera turned Emerald and leaped off the bridge.  A little more slowly, Kel and Daecon did the same.  A thick thread of sticky, green web shot out where they had just been.  The creek was deeper and wider here, almost a river.  Only Daecon was still on his horse when they hit the water and struggled, unable to find footings.  Kel was pulling herself back onto the stallion's back but the sight of the spidren on the bridge made her gasp and drop back into the water.  Daecon rolled off his horse into the water.  The spidren cocked its head as three of its prey disappeared under the water.  Kel surfaced right below the bridge.  She gave a strong kick and grabbed onto the edge of the bridge, the uneven stone making easy handholds.  The current swept Andera and Daecon towards Kel.  Kel grabbed Andera's arm, pulling her out of the current.  Kel's stallion found a footing and pulled itself out of the creek.  The spidren say the easier target and captured the animal with a shot of green web.  Andera screamed.  The other horses, their eyes white with terror, struggled to get out of the creek and onto solid ground.  Daecon grabbed a rock on the opposite bank but didn't climb out of the water.  The spidren crossed the bridge to its prey.  

"Get hold of the bridge."  Kel ordered.  Andera nodded mutely and let go of Kel to grab the bridge.  "Now use the bridge to get to the opposite bank."  Kel said,  "Come on, Kit.  One hand in front of the other."  Andera started pulling herself through the water.  Kel started behind her.  A horse's pained scream almost made Andera lose her grip but Kel whispered for her to keep on.  Seeing the girls start across the creek, Daecon climbed out and slunk back to the base of the bridge.  The spidren didn't notice Daecon help Andera and Kel out of the creek.  They caught their breaths for a moment then stood up and ran.  The spidren heard them and looked around for a moment, confused by all the action.  It settled its attention, finally, on the stallion and the three children sped down the road as fast as they could.  They stayed on the road and didn't pause until they were within sight of Mindelan's gate.  They stopped, hanging on each other and gasping for breath.

"Kel!  Kitten!"  Kel looked up at the sound of her father's voice.  Him and her brothers rode down on them from the courtyard.

"I think we missed supper."  Andera said, having recovered from their adventure except for her soaked hair and clothes.  Kel nodded, noticing for the first time how late it was.

"Where have you been?"  Conal demanded.

"Are you alright?"  Piers asked more gently.  "All in one piece?"

"Yes," Kel answered, "just wet."

"Then lets get you inside and into dry clothes."  Piers said.  Iness bent over and easily pulled Andera up into the saddle with him.

"I didn't say a thing."  She said to him mischievously then more seriously added.  "What are _they_ doing?"

"The ladies are entertaining them.  We'll just get you upstairs and you won't have to face them at all."

"Thanks Iness."  They dismounted at the stables.  Daecon was about to take the horses but Piers insisted he come inside and dry off as well.  Andera and Kel went upstairs, trading their wet gowns for Yamani kimonos, then all three of them ate a light supper, yawning by the time they finished.  The story about what had happened would wait for the next day.

Andera woke herself up with her own scream that night.  She clamped her jaw shut and lay in bed trembling.  She wasn't surprised to hear a faint knock then her door opening.  "Kit?"  Iness' voice was soft and soothing.  "Real or black?"  He sat down on the side of her bed.

"I don't remember."  Andera whispered.

"It's hard to tell you everything's going to be alright when I don't even know what it's about."

Andera yawned, beginning to feel better just because of Iness' presence.  "It does complicate matters."

"Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?"

"No."

"Then why don't we go downstairs?  We haven't read half the books in the library yet."  Andera smiled and nodded, getting out of bed and pulling on her robe.

Downstairs Andera lit two of the library's candles with her Gift and coaxed the embers into a small fire.  Iness got a book off the shelf and a blanket.  They settled on the couch, Andera tucking herself under Iness' arm and using his shoulder as a pillow.  He pulled the blanket over both of them and settled into reading.  Shortly after Andera fell asleep.  Iness read to himself a little longer then shifted so he could use the arm of the couch as a pillow and slept as well.


	7. Cythera's Home

A/N—Short little chapter but it explains a few more things.  Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.

_Corus, Tortall_

_Late Fall 457 H.E._

"Here it is."  Buri said, gesturing to a sign reading 'Cythera's Home.'  Dom and Neal stood next to her.  "Let's go get rooms."  Buri suggested, walking into the common room and knowing her companions would follow.  

The common room was large and neat, full but not overflowing.  The décor was modest in red, gold, blue and silver.  Servers hurried between guests and the kitchen wearing straight skirts and square-necked, elbow-sleeved blouses of red and gold or loose breeches and simple tunics of red, gold and silver.  The servers were all young, their mid-teens at the oldest.  Buri got two rooms and they went upstairs to rest their tired feet.  Like the downstairs, the rooms were decorated in red, gold, blue and silver.

Neal and Dom were reclining on their beds when Buri came in.  "I want you two to try to contact Gary.  I'm going up to the palace to see Thayet."

"Is that such a good idea?"  Dom asked.

"It'll be fine.  Just talk to Gary."  

Dom and Neal followed Buri downstairs.  Dom caught the attention of one of the serving girls.  "Can you tell me where I can find the innkeeper, Master Gareth?"  Dom asked her.  

She smiled sweetly at him.  "You must mean Master Gary?  I've never heard him called Gareth before."  

"Must be the one.  I'll tell my cousin he got the name wrong.  Do you know where I can find him?"

"If he's in.  Just hold on a moment, handsome."  The girl winked and walked off.  

"She's got to be about twelve, Dom.  Don't you have any principles?"  Neal scolded when she was out of earshot.  

"Not if flirting gets us what we need.  Don't worry, Neal, I wouldn't go any further.  You're as bad as Uncle."

The girl came back with a young boy in toe.  He looked to be six or seven.  He had light brown hair, brown eyes and a small build.  He was wearing red breeches and a silver shirt like the male servers, missing only the gold tunic.  "This is Young Master Gary.  He said he could take care of you."

"Thank you both."  Dom replied.  Gary looked over them intently.

"Come on."  Gary said.  Dome and Neal followed him out the back and he stopped.  "You're the Queencoves, aren't you?"

"How did you know?"  Dom asked.

"Come on then."  Gary said without answering.  He took them into the kitchen.  Gary opened a thin door by the oven that the others couldn't see until it was open.  He led them down a flight of stairs into a large room of books and tables.  "Wait here.  Go ahead and make yourselves at home, it might be awhile."  He bounded back up the stairs and closed the door.  Dom stretched out on one of the long benches and Neal started looking through the books.  They were all ancient.  Collections of family trees and books on Seeing were the most common.  

"You could read this."  Dom said, holding up a tattered looking, brown book.  Neal sat down next to Dom and opened the book. It was entitled "The Principles of Sight," and handwritten notes covered the margins on every page.

"It has the Gennature Prophecy in it."  Neal said.

"It's illegal to print that."  Dom said, sitting up straight and peeking around Neal's shoulder.

"It's handwritten."  

"Also illegal.  They'd make it illegal to speak it if they thought they could enforce it."

"Look, he's trying to figure it out."  Neal said, flipping through the book and pointing out some of the notes.

"Wait."  Dom said.  He pointed to the name Queenscove written in a child-like but tidy scrawl next to a passage from the Prophecy, which was written in a different hand.

"Um, why are we in this?"  Neal asked.

"Not we, cousin, just you.  I'm still Masbolle by blood."

"The oldest of the six and youngest son.  Green healer.  All sides shall benefit from his Gift."  Neal read.

"That part about being the youngest son and a green healer could be you or Uncle."  Dom commented.  "What else does it say?"

Neal turned the page.  "This part is about the Seer in the Prophecy and it has Alianne Cooper underlined.  And whoever is taking these notes seems to think an old Rider would be the 'woman warrior.'  They have 'Roald of Conté/Wilima' underlined for the 'rightful king' and Gary for the 'boy of books.'  There are definitely at least two different people taking notes in here, though."

"Fascinating, isn't it?"  Dom and Neal both jumped at the sound of young Gary's voice.  Neal slammed the book closed guiltily.  Gary sat down across from them.  "I don't care if you look at it.  If I cared, I would have put it away."

"You took these notes?"  Dom asked.

"The newer ones.  I don't know who took the first ones.  My dad says this is one of the books he rescued from Sir Myles' library before the Gennature burned it."

"Why's my family's name in here?"  Neal asked.

Gary smiled shyly.  "You're healers with a green Gift."  He paused.  "And your father has a reputation for healing soldiers from both sides during the war."

"It's the responsibility of a healer to help all those in need, not just the ones you like."  Neal said automatically.

Gary shrugged.  "The only place Gennature can get healed in Corus is at the palace because the city folk won't do it but the King only lets high class Gennature use palace facilities."

"That's wrong."  Neal replied.

"Probably."  Gary shrugged again.  "Dad's not around.  I think he's meeting with an agent in the palace.  It's easier for him to go up there then it is for them to come here."

"When will he be back?"  Dom asked.

"He shouldn't be long.  You can wait here or upstairs, whatever you want.  I can tell Master Jin, the cook, that you are waiting.  Dad always comes in through the kitchen or at least stops there."

"Thanks, kid.  I think I'll get acquainted with the common room."  Dom said.  "Are you coming, Neal?"

"I'm going to stay here."  Neal answered, flipping through the book again.

"Alright, but try not to be too boring today."  Dom climbed back up the stairs and found a seat in the common room.  Gary followed him up the stairs to talk to the cook then went back down and sat across from Neal, another book immediately open in front of him.

They were down there for a few hours without talking.  Finally, Neal put the book aside and looked over at Gary.  The boy had moved to lay on his stomach on the floor.

"What are you reading?"  Neal asked.

"Tortall history."  Gary answered, rolling over and sitting up.  "It starts with King Roald II so it's pretty modern."

"So you really like reading."

Gary nodded with a smile.  "I love it.  It's the best thing to do around here.  Plus, I want to be able to help my dad."

"Is it just you and him?"  Neal asked, deciding he really liked Gary.

"Now it is.  The inn's named after my mom, who died, and dad says I have two brothers and three sisters.  He doesn't know what happened to them.  I was only a few months old when everything happened."

"There are so many stories like that around."  Neal said.  "It's almost common place."

Gary grinned.  "They'd make an interesting read."

"What exactly does your father do?"

"He finds people.  He can be hired by anyone to find anyone.  He's got agents reporting to him from all over Tortall and extensive family records.  It's the most elaborate spy network ever."  Gary grinned.  "And the best part it, the Gennature give him leave to do it.  There's a long list of people he's not allowed to look for, of course, but he does anyway."

"And he's trying to figure out this prophecy."

"Well, Dad says that though it's prophesized, it's not a guarantee.  The gods are busy and tired from the war so we'll need to help it along as much as possible."

"And how's that going?"

"Pretty good.  The hardest part's going to be finding Alianne and Roald."

"Because the stories say the gods took her off this world."

"Right."

"Well, I'd say, if she is still on this world, a purple-eyed girl will be pretty noticeable."


	8. Kindness

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.

_City of the Gods, Tortall_

_Spring, 458 H.E._

"It's cold."  Lianne complained in a whisper.  "It was spring in Port Caynn when we left and there's still snow on the ground here.  George said the thaw came early this year to the rest of Tortall.  What's wrong with this place?"

"It has a higher elevation then every other big city in Tortall."  Liam replied, also in a whisper.  "What are they talkin' about in there?"

The three children stood outside of a small building that was called 'the God's House' according to a prim looking green sign that hung over the door.  The house was on the side of a hill outside the city so they could look down on the city or up to the still white mountains.  A cold breeze was blowing so all three of them were shivering in their shabby cloaks while George was inside trying to negotiate their rooms.

"Can you hear what they're saying, Jasson?"  Lianne asked.  Jasson, crouched by the door trying to eavesdrop, shook his head.

"George knows we're listenin'.  If he's talkin' quietly it's because things ain't goin' his way."  Jasson replied, joining his siblings at the bottom of the steps.  "We'll be stayin' somewhere else while we're here."

"I don't see why we came _here_."  Lianne complained.  "I know George doesn't like stayin' in one city for more then a few months but all the other cities would have been sooo much warmer."

"Plus, we always manage to leave here poorer then we come."  Liam added.  Jasson shrugged nonchalantly and leaned against the white fence that surrounded the yard.

"George prob'bly has his reasons."  He said, watching the door intently like he hoped he could see through it and find out what those reasons were.

"You lads lookin' for a place t'stay?"  Jasson turned around, propping his elbows on the fence and surveying the speaker.  He was a man in his late forties or early fifties with salt and pepper hair and kind, gray eyes.  His skin looked tough, he was heavily muscled and Jasson noticed calluses on his hands.  He was riding but the horse looked as old and work-worn as the man.  His clothes and tack were all plain but sturdy.  "Miss Catherine, there, won't let you in."

"It appears that way."  Jasson said pleasantly.  Liam came to stand beside him.

"Well, is it just the three of you?"

"No, our uncle is in there talkin' t'Miss Catherine now."

The man looked them over.  "Can you and your uncle work?"

"Yessir."  Liam and Jasson answered together.

"Well, I've got a ranch of sorts up yonder.  I could put the four of you up in exchange for an extra hand.  Just until you get on your feet around here."

"Thank you, sir.  That's a generous offer."  Jasson said.  Lianne skipped up the steps and called for George.

"It's just me and the misses now.  It gets kind of lonely at times.  The house is aching for some youngins again."  The man said, brushing Jasson's thank you aside.

George came out of the inn and joined Jasson and Liam by the fence.  Lianne stayed on the porch and Miss Catherine appeared in the doorway to watch the exchange.

"Name's George Cooper."  George said, extending his hand to the man.

"Gerry Stanwick."  The man answered, taking George's hand and shaking it firmly.  "I was just tellin' yer boys, if you need a place t'stay until you get settled, I could sure use some more hands on the ranch."

"That sure is a nice offer.  It if won't inconvenience you."

"Not at all."  Gerry interrupted in a laughing tone.  

George grinned.  "Alright, we'll gratefully take you up on your offer."

Lianne skipped back down the steps and joined her brothers while Miss Catherine closed her door.  George put his arm around Lianne's shoulders.  "This is my niece, Lianne Wilima, and my nephews, Liam and Jasson."  The two boys nodded greetings as they were introduced.

"Pleasure, pleasure.  Why don't you come up here, lass, and ride.  The walk ain't far but you look half froze."  Obediently, Lianne came forward and George lifted her into the saddle in front of Gerry, her small pack on her lap.  George, Jasson and Liam picked up their packs then joined the others on the road.  

They hiked up the mountain a short way until the road opened suddenly onto a small clearing cut out of massive pines and redwoods.  There was a modest sized house, a curl of gray smoke escaping the chimney, a barn, a pen of white goats, chickens and pigs all together, and a vegetable patch.  A shed attached to the barn stood with its doors opened, freshly cut wood stacked to the rafters.

"We do a little of everythin' here."  Gerry explained as they rode into the yard.  "We raise some animals, lumber and the misses is the best midwife in these parts.  She grows and makes medicines for all ills.  Only got a sprinklin' of the Gift, too."  Gerry dismounted and then lifted Lianne to the ground.

"I'll take the horse."  Jasson offered.

"Nonsense, lad, you're already froze.  I'll just call Madison out; she'll take ye all inside and I'll tend to old Red, here."  He patted the horse's withers then called towards the house.  "Mady, dear, we're got some right froze house guests."

They waited a moment then the house door opened.  A plump, middle-aged woman, her thick brown hair in a bun, stood in the doorway.  Flour covered her hands and apron and she had the sleeves of a plain, brown wool dress rolled up to her elbows.  She'd clearly been in the middle of cooking.  She looked out on them with soft, brown eyes and gave them a kind smile.

"Well, come in out of the cold, dears.  Supper's just about ready."  She called in a thick alto.  "Gerry, get that old cot out of the barn when you come in.  And if you can scrounge up some extra blankets.  Come on in, dears."  She said again since none of them had moved.  George leading, they climbed up the porch stairs into the house.

The inside of the house had the same quaint look as the outside.  There was no entry hall just one large room with thick pine furniture, a couch, table and chest for books and dishes.  A large black kettle hung over the fire.  A smaller table stood at the other side of the room where Madison had been kneading bread.  Two cupboards were built into the wall above the table and herbs were drying from the rafters.  There were two doors off the main room and a small ladder up to a hatch in the ceiling.

"Our boys slept up there."  Madison gestured to the ladder and hatch.  Gerry built it for them.  I'm sure you lads will enjoy it.  Now that room is ours but the lass can sleep in the other one.  We can put a blanket up to divide that room, though it's awfully small, or set a cot up for you out here, Master…"

"George.  I'm fine out here.  We'll let Lianne have a room of her own."

"Alright, now go set your bags down and I'll have supper ready."

"Thank you, ma'm."  They all said.

"It's my pleasure."

Jasson climbed up the ladder, Liam at his heels.  The loft room had a chest of drawers under a large window.  Thick pine bunk beds were built into the wall.  A dusty washbasin of white clay sat on the chest and a sketching of the clearing hung on one wall.  It looked like it had been done by a kid Liam's age.  Jasson tested the window and was pleased to find it opened out onto the roof.  Liam opened the chest of draws, finding some old boy's clothes, toys and more sketches.

"Mistress Madison asked me to bring these up to you."  Lianne said, climbing through the hatch and offering the boys linens and two heavy quilts for their beds.

"My room's about this size.  It's got a double bed and a pine wardrobe with some dresses and stuff still in it."  Lianne sat on the bottom bed.  "When she came in to bring me a quilt she said she had three daughters and a granddaughter make use of that room.  I wonder what happened to them."

"Supper's on."  Madison's voice drifted up from below, the smell of a thick stew accompanying it.  They smiled at each other and climbed down.  George was setting the table while Madison ladled the stew into bowls.  A cot had been placed in the corner by the cupboard and George's pack was on top of it.  

Gerry led them in a short prayer once they had gathered at the table.  The food was the best they had had since leaving Prot Caynn and warmed them to the bones.  Gerry and Madison engaged George in pleasant conversation but didn't seem to care where they all came from or what they planned to do in The City of the Gods.  After dinner, the kids helped Madison clean up then went to bed, tired from traveling.  Jasson fell asleep quickly, feeling comfortable, full and happy.

They woke up with the sun.  Having slept in their clothes the children were the first ones in the main room.  Lianne was fixing breakfast when Liam and Jasson came down but George was nowhere to be seen.

"Go get some wood and build up the fire."  Lianne ordered, taking charge.

"Where's George?"  Jasson asked.

"Said he had somethin' to tend to; be back in a week.  He already told our hosts."  Lianne answered briskly.

"A week?"  Liam asked, startled.  "He just left us!"

"Wood."  Lianne reminded them.

"Alright."  Jasson said and Liam grunted agreement.

There was an axe and cutting log outside the shed but just inside the door the logs were already cut into usable sizes.  Jasson and Liam each grabbed an armload of wood and went back to the house.  Gerry, Madison and Lianne were already eating.  Jasson built up the fire then joined them and Liam.  

"Come on lassie, let's get lunches together for our lads."  Madison said when she and Lianne had finished eating.  Gerry looked Jasson and Liam over.

"Yer goin' t'need somethin' warmer then that."  Gerry told them.  "No wonder ye were half froze yesterday.  Mady, do we still have the boys' old boots?"

"Gave 'em away years ago."  Madison set a pack containing their lunches on the table and looked them up and down.  "I think Jasson, here, is about Matty's size.  Those things in the loft chest.  Go ahead and change into something warm.  Gerry, take Liam out to the barn and see if any of Addis' or Dean's old things will fit."

Jasson climbed up to the loft and Lianne followed him.  She sat on the bed while he rifled through the chest, pulling out a pair of thick wool trousers, a dyed green cotton shirt and a short, heavy jacket with a few patches.

"That's three boys and four girls that used to live here."  Lianne said.  "I wonder what happened.  They couldn't have all grown up if there's still clothes in here that fit you."

"You're goanna try t'figure this out, aren't you?"  Jasson asked while he pulled on the loaned outfit.  It was indeed much warmer.

"Yes.  I'm curious.  I can't help it."

"Well, you'll have all day t'ask Mistress Stanwick."

Lianne looked shocked.  "I couldn't possibly ask out of the blue like that."

"You want t'figure it out yourself."  Lianne's shock turned into a smile.

"Yes.  Is that so wrong?"

"Of course not.  Have a good day and make us somethin' good for dinner."

"Already spoiled and we haven't even been here a full day."  Lianne called after him as he climbed back down.

"Much better."  Madison said when she saw him.  "Go ahead and take the lunches and meet the others out at the barn.  They should be about ready."

"Thanks, Mistress Stanwick."  Jasson said, picking up the sack of lunches.  Even with the thicker clothes, it was still shockingly cold outside.  Jasson took a deep breath of the cold air then hurried to the barn.  Liam was pulling on a jacket that was a few sizes too big for him and Gerry was hitching Red to a cart.

"Put the lunches in old Red's bags."  Gerry ordered.  Jasson did as he was told then helped Gerry finish the hitching.  Gerry loaded axes, saws and other tools into the cart then they set out.  They hiked up the mountain until they reached a field of felled trees.  "We need to cut them trees into bite sized pieces to take on back."

Liam looked at the huge pines.  "And by 'bite seized' you mean those entire trunks that were stacked in the shed."

"Exactly."  Gerry said with a smile.  "Let's get to work."

They worked continuously until lunch.  By that time Jasson's muscles were aching and he had blisters on his hands.  They sat together on the edge of the cart and spread the lunch out between them.  They'd been given bread, stew in jars, cheese and some early fruit.  

"Ahh, that Mady always feeds me like I'm a king."  Gerry said, taking a big bite of bread.  

"Yours is a happy nature, sir."  Liam commented, wrapping his hands around a jar of warm stew.  Now that they weren't working they were beginning to feel the cold again.

"Course, we look at this and see a feast as well."  Jasson added.

"How ya lads doin'?"  Liam spread one of his hands, exposing large white and red blisters.

"Like some lily handed, blue blood."  He sulked.

"It'll get better."  Gerry assured them.  "In a week those'll be nice calluses."

"As long as my fingertips stay soft, I'll be happy.  Fingers are very important in how we normally feed ourselves."  Liam said then immediately looked like he whished he hadn't.

"It's alright, lads.  I won't ask and I won't judge."

"Pickpockets."  Jasson replied.  Liam glared at him.  "At least most of the time.  But rest soundly, because we won't steal from you.  We still got our decency."

"I never suspected you would.  Though I guessed you were somthin' of the sort of thieves."

"Mostly we're just poor."  Liam said, assured they wouldn't get kicked out onto the street for being honest.

"Things are hard all over, lad.  Time was, thievery was a profitable occupation.  Now there's very few profitable occupations left.  But you lads are too young to remember."  Gerry opened his stew and leaned back against the wood they'd already cut.

"Master Stanwick, what happened to your kids?"  Jasson asked softly, hoping he hadn't over stepped his bounds, but Lianne had provoked his curiosity.  

"My kinds, huh.  Well, many things happened.  Mady likes to call it bad fate but I think it's just life."  Gerry took a long sip of stew and Jasson wondered if he was going to continue.  "Matty, my grandson whose clothes yer wearin', died two and a half years ago.  The flu took him and my granddaughter, Kitty, both.  Winters here are harsh; kids die every year.  My youngest, Belle, got sick that year, too.  She didn't ever really recover and passed away just last winter.  My other daughters were out of the house by then.  Maggie, who gave us the grandchildren, was living in a village up north.  She sent the children t'us during the war because it's safer in the cities, but she was a healer and didn't want t'leave her people.  Her and her husband were killed in a raid.

"The war took my sons, too, Addis and Dean.  They were just sixteen and fourteen but they saw it as their duty t'fight.  They died within a month of each other.  Kegan, my other daughter, was sixteen when she died, too.  It was childbirth—killed both her and the baby.  Mady still feels guilty about not being there for her."  Gerry took another sip of stew.

"I'm sorry, sir."  Jasson said.

"No, there isn't a person in Tortall who didn't loose loved ones in the war and I can't begrudge the gods over natural deaths.  I can't feel sorry for myself when there's orphans like you starving every day.  I've had a good life, lovin' children and I still have a lovin' wife."  Gerry paused.  "How did your folks pass on?"

"We don't know."  Jasson answered.  "As far back as I can remember George has been takin' care of us.  I've got glimpses of older memories but nothin' concrete.  All George has ever told us is that our father was killed in the war and before he died he asked George t'take care of us.  George isn't even our real uncle, he was just our father's friend."

"See, so what right do I have to be unhappy?"  Gerry said.

"Like I said, happy nature."  Liam mumbled.

"You should be content, too, lads.  You've got each other, that sweet little sister, and a man who obviously cares for you a lot."

"Enough t'give up his own sons."  Jasson whispered.  Neither Liam nor Garry heard him.  They finished eating and got back to work, racing the sun to get as much done as they could.


	9. Leaving

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.

_Mindelan, Tortall_

_Late Spring 458 H.E_

Andera hung her head, her eyes fixed on the ground at Iness' feet.  She hated being scolded, especially by Iness, but sometimes she couldn't help it.  Sometimes she was just drawn to actions that got her in trouble or else she was so bored she gave up trying to control herself.  She often felt she was fighting her very nature by trying to maintain Yamani discipline and Gennature values.  In Yamani there had been games and weapons practices to relieve her tensions but in Mindelan there was nothing except secret practices and rides outside of the walls, such exercises getting more reckless every time.  

This morning she had taken a horse out.  She couldn't take Emerald because she had been injured and was still recovering.  Instead, Andera had taken Oranie's horse without permission.  She had tried to jump a small ravine on the delicate mare and had miscalculated the mare's ability.  Andera and horse had plummeted to the bottom of the eight-foot drop.  By the time Andera had crawled out of the ravine and limped home on foot she had missed two meals and searchers had been sent out for her.  The mare had broken two legs and would have to be put down.  Andera herself had numerous bruises and a sprained ankle.

"If Pa were home…" Iness was saying.  Andera jerked her head up.

"Please don't tell him, Iness."  She begged.  "He'll be disappointed again.  I don't try to disappoint him; honestly I don't."

"Kit, he's going to find out."

"I'll do anything, Iness.  I'll try harder.  I'll replace the horse by the end of the summer, before Oranie and Adie go back to Corus."  Andera pleaded.

"How are you going to replace the horse, Andera?"

"I'll find a way."

"And how do you expect us to keep its absence from Pa before you do?"

"We'll tell him I was riding her when she got spooked by something in the woods."  Oranie broke in.  "There are plenty of animals in these woods and she was always a little skittish.  I can get Conal to go along and Kel, Adie and Tilaine aren't back from town yet.  Ma and Pa won't be back for a couple more days.  What do you say, Iness?"

Andera smiled thankfully at Oranie and waited for Iness to say something.  "Alright, but that doesn't mean you didn't do wrong today, Andera."

"I know Iness."  Andera answered meekly.

"Now go get yourself cleaned up and have the healer look at your ankle."  Iness ordered.

Andera nodded and slunk out of the kitchen, closing the door behind her.  She slid to the ground in the hall and leaned her head back against the wall.  She heard Iness say to Oranie, "What are we going to do with her?  In a year or two Kel's going to have to go to Corus to be presented to the court as a noble lady and she'll be here all alone."

Andera recognized Oranie's sigh.  "I wish there was some way to get them both out of that.  Adie and I do fine in Corus but their spirits aren't meant for such a life.  It's why she's so reckless."

"I understand that, but her spirit doesn't change anything.  Someday she's going to have to learn."

"You mean learn to be someone else.  Learn to put out that fire in her so she can fit into some ill-conceived, Gennature mold.  You shouldn't help them to destroy her, Iness."

Andera felt tears sting the back of her eyes.  She had heard enough.  She got clumsily to her feet and climbed up to her room as fast as her injured ankle would allow.  In her room she stripped off her torn skirt and blouse.  A servant had already filled a tub with warm water and Andera climbed in, wincing as she put too much weight on her ankle.  The water stung her cuts and she couldn't keep from crying any longer.  She climbed out of the tub and dried off, putting on a Yamani kimono instead of another skirt.  She wrapped her ankle with a leg wrap they used for the horses but didn't go to the healer.  Andera sat on her bed, leaning against the wall, and brought her knees up to her chest.  

When she had cried enough she wiped her eyes then reached for the book on her night table.  "Kit, are you in here?"  Oranie's voice came through the door as she tapped gently.  Andera didn't say anything, tears stinging her eyes again.  "Kit?"  She remained quiet but Oranie pushed the door open anyway.  "Did you hear us talking?"  Andera was crying again.  She impatiently wiped the tears off her cheeks.  "Kit, will you please talk to me?"  Andera remained silent, pushing herself tighter against the wall and pulling her knees closer to her chest.  Oranie sighed and kissed Andera's forehead.  "Good night."

When Oranie left Andera opened her book again.  She stayed in her room reading through dinner until the house was quiet.  Iness and Kel both said good night to her through her door but she didn't answer them.  When everyone was asleep Andera crawled off her bed.  She threw a skirt, another bandage and some coins into a bag.  She tucked a _shukusen _in her belt and laced her boots together, draping them over her shoulder.  She crept downstairs without making a sound and added some water and food to her bag.  At the door she put her cloak and boots on.

Andera stuck to the woods until she was past the town then started off on the road at a steady pace.  She didn't know where she was going but moving eased her troubled mind.  At dawn she slept just off the road for a few hours then started walking again.  By noon she was out of territory she recognized and she knew her siblings would begin looking for her.  Andera also knew that they wouldn't look this far until she had failed to show up around Mindelan.  

Andera stopped to eat a light lunch about one.  Her ankle was swollen and aching so she took her boot off and soaked her ankle in a creek.  It was the beginning of summer but under the trees the water was still cold.  It numbed the pain and Andera sat for an hour before wrapping it again and starting off.  Stops every few hours to soak or rest her ankle became necessary and she grew frustrated with the slow pace, beginning to wish she had dared to take one of Mindelan's horses.

About five Andera got the feeling of people approaching her on the road and took to the woods.  An hour later she stopped.  She set up a camp with a small fire and gently unlaced her boots.  Her ankle was almost twice its normal size and she knew she'd need to stop walking soon.  She soaked one of her bandages and wrapped that around her ankle then fashioned a rough walking stick using her _shukusen_ as a knife.

Andera slept fitfully that night and woke up before dawn.  Her fire had burned down to embers.  Andera ate breakfast by the glowing coals, noting that she would need to get more food in a day or so.  When the sun came up she put her boots back on and headed to the road again.  She kept the pace she had set the day before.  By suppertime she had reached a small city.  She pulled her Tortallan skirt on over her kimono and bought herself some more supplies, including a cream to put on her ankle for the swelling.  Andera camped in the woods that night as well.  She was beginning to doubt the wisdom of ever leaving Mindelan but in the morning she started off again.  

The pain in her ankle got progressively worse as she walked and she stopped early on the third evening.  She hobbled around making a fire and gathering pine boughs for her bed, planning to stay in one place for a few nights and let her ankle rest.  When her camp was set up she tended to her ankle then sat by the fire and whittled on her walking stick.  Just after the sun went behind the trees Andera got the feeling she wasn't alone in the camp.  She looked up and let out a startled shriek.  There was a woman, tall and thin, standing on the other side of the fire.  She wore elegant clothing and had long, black hair.  Her face was so beautiful it made Andera catch her breath.  Her eyes were clear, depth-filled emerald.

"You are a challenge to keep track of, especially in my present state."  The woman said.  Her voice was like hounds on the hunt, fierce yet beautiful.  It rang in Andera's head and if she weren't already sitting she would have fallen with the power of that voice.  "I arranged for you to meet the Mindelans for a reason, Kitten, and I won't tolerate you ruining that.  What are you thinking, running away?"

"You know me?"  Andera asked.  It was all she could think to say.

"Of course.  Now what are you doing out here?"

"I don't know."  Andera answered truthfully.  "I need to get Anie a horse."

The woman sat down gracefully and when she spoke again her voice was softer, like the wind singing through the trees.  "Are you not happy with the Mindelans?"

"They're my family."  Andera answered sharply.  "I love them all, it's just Tortall I hate."

"No Kitten, you will love the real Tortall and you will fight for it.  That is your destiny."

"Why do you call me Kitten?"  Andera asked, deciding not to dwell on her supposed destiny.

"Because that is the only name by which your past and present both know you."

"Oh."  They were quiet for a while.  A rustling drew Andera's attention to the underbrush on her right.  A small, black nose sniffed the air.  Then a thin head and sleek white body ending in a long, fury tail came out of the bushes.  The animal crawled over to Andera and, standing on its hind legs, stuck its nose in her face.

"It is time we talk, Kitten."  The woman said.

"I thought we were talking."  Andera answered, holding out her hand to the animal.  He sniffed her fingers.

"You need to be careful, Kitten.  I know it is hard for you.  Trouble runs in your blood."

"Who are my parents?"  Andera interrupted.

The woman glared at her.  "I won't tell you that."

"But you could."

"Listen to me, Kitten.  For the next few years ignorance will aid you.  Stay in the shadows.  There are many, friend and foe, who are looking for you and you are not easy to miss.  Heed my advice and stay home.  Don't deny your curious nature but be subtle about it.  Use that Yamani discipline you have and hone your skills, don't just explode in a reckless temper.  And get Oranie a new horse; you owe her that much."  The woman stood and the animal scurried over to her.  "Stay with Kitten.  She will need you."

Andera stood.  "Can't you tell me what's going to happen?"

"No, Kitten, I can not."  Andera blinked and the woman was gone.  Chewing her lip, Andera looked down at the animal.

"So it's you and me now."  The animal chatted in reply.  Andera dropped to the ground again.  "You know, for a private chat with the Goddess, that wasn't very informative."  The animal climbed up onto Andera's lap.  "My ankle really hurts."  Andera commented, enjoying having someone to talk to even if the conversation was one-sided.  "I think I'll call you _Kaji_.  It's Yamani for faith."  The animal chattered pleasantly in response.  Andera yawned.  Curling up with Kaji against her stomach, she quickly fell asleep.  By the morning Andera was hot with fever.  She built up her fire, ate lightly, and then curled up again on her bed of pine boughs, closing her eyes against the sun.  She fell asleep once more, Kaji curled up by her face, and dreamed about being back home in Yamani.


	10. Searching

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.  Thanks, I've been getting some pretty helpful reviews and I have five more chapters already typed up just waiting to be edited and uploaded so I'll try not to let it be too long before I update again.

_Mindelan, Tortall_

_Late Spring, 458 H.E._

Kel got the true story of what had happened from Oranie when she got back from the city.  She ate supper with her siblings and sister-in-law, Tilaine, then went up to Andera's room.  She knocked a few times and finally called good night through the door, but Andera ignored her.  Kel gave up and went back downstairs.  She shut herself in the study and got her glaive out of its hiding place.  She went through pattern exercises, only practicing for half an hour because she knew Andera would be egger to practice longer in the morning.  After practice she sat with her siblings in the library for a while then went up to bed.

Kel woke up just after the sun.  She got dressed and washed her face then went downstairs.  Tilaine was the only one up but Kel hadn't expected anyone else.  Her brothers had stayed up late and her sisters had gotten into the habit of sleeping in while they were court ladies in Corus.

"Good morning, Kel."  Tilaine greeted.

"Good morning."  Kel sat across from Tilaine at the table, picking up an apple and biting into it.  They lapsed into silence, not really having anything in common to talk about.  Kel finished her breakfast just as Iness came in.

"Hey Kel.  Morning Tilaine."  Iness greeted.  He reached over Kel and grabbed a piece of bread.  "Has Kit been down yet?"

"No she hasn't."  Tilaine answered though Kel knew the question had been directed at her.  "What is the matter with her?"  

"She didn't feel well yesterday."  Iness replied.  "You know how she gets sometimes."

"I'll go upstairs and check on her."  Kel offered.  Iness nodded and Kel stood up.  She passed Conal and Adie on the way down, saying good morning to them both.  Andera's room was at the end of the hall, next to Iness' and across from Oranie's.  Kel tapped lightly on the door, not wanting to disturb Oranie.  Andera was a light sleeper and early riser, even when ill, but she didn't answer Kel's taps.

"Kit, lets go practice."  Kel whispered through the door.  "It'll make you feel better."  Kel opened the door a sliver and slipped inside.  It only took her a moment to realize Andera wasn't inside and hadn't been all night.  Her quilt was ruffled but not pulled back, her latest book was open on her bed and her _shukusen_ was missing from her night table.  For a moment Kel froze, her mind going through all of Andera's passed tricks.  _She probably woke up early and went out riding_; Kel told herself but didn't believe it.

Kel raced back downstairs.  All her siblings were in the kitchen.  She rushed to Iness' side.  "She's not upstairs."  Kel whispered to him.  "And her room's a mess."

"Are you telling me she normally cleans before she runs off?"  Iness asked.

Oranie, who was sitting next to him heard.  "She normally does everything she can think to do inside before knowingly getting in trouble."

Iness stood up.  "Conal, come on.  We'll get another search group together.  Oranie, come too, if you will."  Kel watched her brothers and Oranie rush out, frustrated that she couldn't go.  Andera would have argued with Iness until he relented and let them both go but Kel wasn't the type to argue with Iness.  Instead, she made up a quick excuse to Adie and Tilaine then went to the stables.  Daecon was mucking out stalls, his job made easier by all the absent horses.

"Mornin' Kel."  Daecon greeted while he continued with his work.

"Hey, Daecon."  Kel leaned over the stall door.  "I want to go out.  Will you accompany me?"

"You want to go look for Kit."

"Of course.  Look, Iness and the others will be combing the woods but this isn't one of Kit's regular outings."  Daecon nodded and kept working.  "I think she's headed down the road, south.  If we hurry we might be able to catch her.  She can't have more then six hours lead."

"Alright."  Daecon leaned his rake against the side of the stall.  "I'll get out horses."  Daecon saddled their mounts quickly, not giving Kel a chance to help.  They left Mindelan without being noticed since so many were out searching the woods for Andera.  When they got out on the road Kel kicked her horse, Chet, into a trot. Daecon caught up to her and they rode in silence, both desperately scanning the trees on either side of the road.  They searched for hours but found no sign of Andera.  They got back to Mindelan just before dark and Iness, Conal and Oranie came back an hour later, also empty handed.

Kel slept uneasily and woke up early the next day.  When she went downstairs everyone but Adie was already down and eating.  "I'll be gone for a few days, probably."  Iness was saying as Kel took a seat.  "I'm taking a fourth of the men at arms.  Counting the men Pa took that leaves you with half.  You shouldn't need more then that.  If pa and ma get back before I do…"

"We'll tell them the truth."  Oranie filled in when Iness trailed off.  "But I'm sure you'll find her."

"Right."  Iness continued.  "Today, with a lot of help, Conal is going to search along the north road.  Remember, not very far, though."

"I know, Iness."  Conal said harshly.  "You've only been the oldest for seven years and you're just as annoying at it as Anders was."

"Just be careful, Conal; we have enough to worry about."  Oranie scolded.

"May I go, please?  With you, not Conal?"  Kel asked.  Iness looked over at her.  "I won't slow you down or be in the way.  I can ride as well as you and you know I can hold my own if we get into trouble."  Kel finished in a hurry.  

Iness was quiet for a moment.  "As good a rider as me," he paused and Kel thought for sure he was going to say no, "Kel, you're a better rider then me.  You can come this time."

Kel blinked dumbly at him.  "Really?"

Iness smiled.  "Yes, really.  Go get ready."   Kel stood up and dashed up to her room.  She threw some extra clothes in a bag, pulled on her boots and cloak then charged down the stairs.  Iness stood up when he saw her and they walked outside together, Oranie and Tilaine following to say good-bye; Adie was still in bed.  

"Kel, what's the name of that stable boy Kit's always hanging around?"  Iness asked.

"Daecon."  Kel answered.  "He's the one holding your horse."

"I see that."

Kel went in to stable her horse, since the stable hands hadn't known she was coming along.  Emerald whinnied pleadingly at her when she passed.  "Not today, girl."  She apologized for Andera.  When she led Chet out again Daecon was astride one of the spare horses behind Iness and Mercen, the head man at arms.  Kel led Chet over and mounted up beside Daecon.  "You're coming?"

Daecon grinned.  "So are you."  His voice had finished changing and was now a smooth baritone.  "I'm just a guide."

Kel smiled at him.  "I'm just here."

Daecon laughed.  "You, Keladry of Mindelan, are hardly ever 'just' anywhere."

"Thanks, I think."

Iness called for them to leave and they followed him and Mercen through the gates, the men at arms at their backs.


	11. Capture

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.  I've been getting some pretty helpful reviews and I have four more chapters already typed up just waiting to be edited and uploaded so I'll try not to let it be too long before I update again.  Here's a real short little chapter.

_The Great Road South, Tortall_

_A merchant caravan two days outside of Corus_

_Last day of spring, 458 H.E._

The merchant looked over Roald with cold, brown eyes.  "Where'd you get this money, boy?"

"I earned it."  Roald snapped.  "Legally."

"How?" The merchant demanded.

"Talismans.  I've been carving cheap ones and selling them for four years."  Roald answered, holding out a small coin purse again.  "And by law, if a bond servant presents his master with the price of his bondage, the master must terminate his service."

"That's an awful lot of big words and law reciting for an orphaned brat.  When I bought your service, you were alone on the streets of Corus."

"And now I'm paying you for my service."  Roald countered.

"When I got you it you were just twelve years old.  I could have sold you for three times what you're offering me now and your buyer would have thought he was getting a deal."

"And in two years my term of service will be up and you'll get noting."  Roald pushed the purse towards the merchant.  "I want my papers."

The merchant looked at the coins and switched tactics.  "By law any money you make while in my service is my property anyway."  He sneered, grabbing the purse.  "Now get back to work."

Roald stayed where he was.  He'd become a tall, broad shouldered eighteen-year- old with large, work-hardened muscles.  He was a head taller then the merchant and gave off a commanding presence when he wasn't trying to blend into the background, like now.  The merchant glared up at him, clearly not wanting to give up such a good worker.

"By law I have to give you only the money I make from sales of your wares or from your craft.  Since I didn't sell out of your booth and cheap talismans have noting to do with what you sell, the money is mine to keep."  Roald argued.  "Now, may I please have my papers?"

"What are you going to do, boy, sell cheap Talismans for a living?"

"I want to be a merchant."  Roald answered.

"Well, you wont get an apprenticeship with me or any of my friends.  Stay here."  The merchant went into his tent and came back with Roald's papers, shoving them into his chest.  Roald took them gratefully.  "Now get out of this camp."

Roald didn't stay any longer; he knew he wasn't welcome.  He grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder, walking purposefully north out of the camp.  Roald had been walking for only a few hours when the novelty of no longer being a bondservant wore off.  "Smart move."  He mumbled to himself.  "Four years work and you've got five coppers in your pocket."  He hefted his pack more firmly on his shoulders and kept walking.  He whistled the tune to the Tireless Beggar to keep himself entertained.  

It was past noon and Roald was between songs when he heard a faint noise off the road.  The numerous shrubs and dense brush along the road offered just enough cover for the robbers Roald knew lurked along all the main roads in Tortall.  He stopped walking and listened intently.  There was a rustling off to his left and a twig snapped on his right.  Realizing he had very little choice as to what to do, he started walking again.  As he had expected two ragged men with bows stepped into the road in front of him.  There was more rustling on either side.

Roald cursed under his breath.  "Look, I've got nothing."  He called to them, holding up his hands, palms out.  "I'm probably poorer then you."

"Give us your pack."  One of the men ordered.  "Cooperate and you won't get hurt."

Roald slung the pack off his shoulders, taking a quick look around, then tossed it at the men's feet.  The one who had spoken nodded.  Seven more men came out of the brush onto the road.  "Empty his pockets."  Roald stood still as they pulled his five coppers and a few odds and ends out of his pockets.  "Shoes, too."

Roald shook his head.  "I'd rather keep my shoes.  I've got a long walk and—"  One of the men punched him hard in the stomach and he doubled over.

"Take them off."

Still grasping for breath, Roald pulled his dagger out of the top of his boot.  Uncoiling like a spring, he lashed out at the man closest to him.  The man staggered but didn't fall.  Roald attacked again, this time with fists and dagger.  The men swarmed around him, lucky punches blooding his nose and blackening his eye, but he was too fast for them to get any coordinated attack together.  Still, he was horribly out numbered and before long he was on the ground, his arms shielding his head and his knees up to his chest.  There was some shouting and suddenly the punches and kicks stopped.  Roald lay how he was, his blood coursing so loudly in his ears he couldn't make out the sounds of running feet and pounding hooves.  

Roald rolled over onto his back and blinked up into the blue sky.  He slowed his breathing and whipped blood out of his eyes, even those slight movements making him hurt.

"Hold up here."  A man shouted in Gennature.  "Sattur, pursue those others."  Roald groaned and closed his eyes.  A Gennature patrol was not what he needed at the moment.  He heard horses came to a stop near his head and two or three men dismounted.

"This one's alive."  Someone said in Gennature.  "Can you stand, boy?"  He added in thickly accented Common.  Roald opened his eyes again.  The man that crouched near his head was huge, pale and blonde.  There was a hint of sympathy in his blue eyes and this tone was gentle underneath his accent.  

Slowly Roald sat up then got to his feet.  "What happened here?"  The blonde man asked.

"I was robbed."  Roald answered.  The man studied him, his eyes lingering on the blood stained dagger Roald still held.

"And turned murderer to get your money back?"  The man said skeptically.

"What?"  Roald said, startled, then looked where the man pointed.  One of the robbers lay in a crumpled heap on the road, the front of his shirt stained with blood from a dagger cut across his stomach.

Roald shook his head, fighting dizziness and a wave of dread.  "I did it to keep my shoes.  I didn't mean to kill any of them, just run them off."

"I'll need that dagger."  Roald handed it over.  "And I need to see your hands."  Roald held his hands out, his fingers spread.  "He's got no history."  The man called in Gennature to his commander, who was still mounted.  He took Roald's left hand and turned it over, pushing up his sleeve.  "Bond servant."  He added upon seeing the tattooed 'B' on the underside of Roald's wrist.

"Not as of today."  Roald said.  "I've got my papers in my boot."  The man dropped Roald's wrist.

"Let me see 'em."  Roald did as he was told, handing his papers over.  The Gennature man nodded and gave the papers to his commander, who folded them up and stuck them in his pocket.

"Tie him."  The commander ordered in Gennature.  

"I'm sorry, lad," the blonde man said to Roald in Common, "but we're going to have to take you in.  Murder of any kind is illegal and worth time in the mines."  He looked like he truly felt sorry and Roald knew he couldn't fight his way out of this.  If he tried he'd be dead within a minuet.  Grudgingly, he held out his hands.  They bound his wrists to the end of a long rope, which was then handed to one of the men on horseback.  The men who had been sent after the robbers came back without them and the Gennature turned their horses north, Roald following behind.

"Today just keeps getting better."  He said to himself.  "I should have gone south to see Raoul."


	12. Rahallow

A/N—Please read and review.  Thank you.  I hope you enjoy.  I've been getting some pretty helpful reviews.  Sorry it took so long to update.  I started a new story and kind of forgot about everything else.  

Thanks to jenn jenn2 and Rubber Duck for the reviews.

Well, here's another short chapter.

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_On the Great Road North between fiefs Treabond and Mindelan_

_First day of summer, 458 H.E._

Andera woke up and the first thing she noticed was that her ankle didn't hurt.  The second thing was that she had no idea where she was.  She lay on a warm cot with the quilt pulled up to her chin.  There was a small hearth with a dwindling fire and a window on the other side of the room was open a sliver.  Andera felt stiff like she hadn't exercised in weeks and lazy like she hadn't moved in days.  She raised herself up on her elbows to get a better look around.  There were two doors, one by the window and one near the head of Andera's cot.  The room was stuffed with furniture and looked well lived in though it was kept neat.  

Andera tossed her quilt aside and swung her legs out so she could sit on the side of the cot.  She had somehow acquired a thin cotton nightgown that ended below her knees.  She gave her ankle a few test turns and stood up carefully.  It didn't hurt but standing upright made her feel even more stiff and out of shape.  She bent at the waist to touch her toes then followed that with a series of Yamani stretches that worked every part of the body.  She felt much better when she was done.  There was a robe on the back of a chair and she put it on, though it was much too large and slipped off her shoulders.  She walked slowly to the window and looked out onto a normal Tortallan street in a medium sized town.

"Miss Kelly, she's up."  Andera turned when she heard the light, male voice from behind her.  He was standing by the other door and looked to be in his late twenties.  He was tall and thinly muscled.  He was blonder then Andera and had bright blue eyes that laughed at her surprised look.  "We thought you'd sleep forever, lass, but it's good to see you up and moving."

"Who are you?"  Andera asked.  "How did I get here?"

"My name's Evin Larse.  I found you out in the woods with a sprained ankle and a fever.  I brought you back to Rahallow and my mother-in-law, she's the healer that fixed you up."  As he explained a tall, thin woman with masses of thick, purely white hair piled on top of her head, walked in.

"It's a pleasure to see you moving around, little one."  She said in a low, kind voice.  "Are you hungry?"  Andera nodded.  "Benni, bring in that tea."  She called through the door.  "I'm Kellsen Mattis but folks around here call me Miss Kelly.  Why don't you come sit down and I'll give you a look over."  Another woman came in carrying a cup of steaming liquid.  She seemed to be in her mid twenties as well.  She had lots of thick, pale blonde hair, which was woven into a rope of braid that she then wound around her head.  Her eyes were dark blue and her skin creamy ivory.  She set the steaming cup on an end table by the cot as Andera sat down.  Miss Kelly ran knowing hands over Andera's ankle then looked in her eyes and mouth and felt her forehead.

"Well, your fever has gone down and your ankle healed nicely.  How do you feel?"

"Like I overslept."  Andera answered.  The adults chuckled.

"Well, you've been in and out for nearly two weeks."  Benni replied, her voice also low and kind.  "I'll go get you somethin' to eat."

"What's your name, lass?"  Evin asked.

"Andera."

"Alright Andera, welcome to Rahallow."  Evin said, extending his hand for Andera to take.  Benni came back in with a large bowl and plate.

"It'll be chicken and herb broth for you, lass, and that's fresh bread and fruit on the plate."  She set the meal on the table by the tea.  "Our potatoes are done."  She told the others.

"We'll be supping in the other room.  If you need anything, just holler."  Evin told her as they started to walk out.  "Oh, and we left the window open for your ferret.  He's out playing now but he's never away from your side more 'n an hour or two."  He added with a smile Andera couldn't help but return.  The tea, soup, bread and fruit were amazingly good and by the time Andera finished eating her eyelids were feeling heavy.  She took off the robe and put it back where she'd found it.  Just as she was nodding off Kaji climbed though the open window and scurried across the room to curl up on her pillow.

Andera woke up the next morning feeling very refreshed and in the mood for some exercise.  She got out of bed and stretched then pulled the robe on and opened the door by her bed.  It led into a kitchen and dining room of sorts where Evin sat at a small, ovular table sipping tea.  He looked up when he heard the door open.

"Good morning, Andera."

"Morning."

"Can I help you with something?"

"I'd like some clothes."  She said uncertainly.  

"Ah, well, your Yamani kimono was really too trashed to be saved and the rest of your pack was involved in an unfortunate incident with a goat.  His name's Serge and he's a real picky eater, but we have to watch what we leave on the floor around here because he comes in and chews on things just for their entertainment value."  Evin paused and smiled.  Andera returned it.  "I asked around the tavern, though, and a few people brought some things by that might fit you.  I'll go grab the bag.  Have yourself a seat and get some breakfast."  He gestured to a pot of gruel on the stove then went through another of two doors.  He came back a few minuets later carrying a full cloth bag.

Andera swallowed her spoonful of gruel.  "Thank you."  She said before she took another bite.

"You've got your appetite back.  According to the two healers I live with, that's a good sign."  Evin said in the light, laughing way he had.  "Now I'll explain to you my dilemma.  Miss Kelly and Benni had to run off to Treabond.  The messenger came in last night."

"But Treabond's miles away."

"Right, but it's one of the fiefs that the Gennature seized and the lord there is Gennature.  His wife's Tortallan and pregnant.  The messenger came to say she was delivering.  She probably had the baby before Miss Kelly and Benni got there but they're the only midwives willing to deliver or treat a half Gennature child."

"That's wrong."

"I agree.  It's one of the things that made me fall in love with Benni.  Anyway, my problem is I'm not to leave you alone and I need to go in to work today.  Mistress Jonesy, who watched you a few times while you were sick, has to stay home because her little ones are ill.  So that leaves us with a problem."

"I can go with you, if I won't get in the way."  Andera offered.

"You feel well enough?"  Evin asked.  "It's not anything strenuous—just a short walk then you can sit around."

"I feel fine.  I actually feel like I've been sleeping too much.  I'm not used to it."

"Alright, I just need to tidy up a bit then I'll be ready.  Your boots are under the cot."

"Thanks."  Andera gulped down the rest of her breakfast then took the bag of clothes into the other room to change.  There was an assortment of skirts, dresses and blouses.  Andera, not one fore dresses except in the Yamani style, pulled out a few blouses and skirts that looked like they would fit her.  She settled on a shin-length, gray skirt and a cream blouse that was only a little too big.  Andera looked at her reflection in the window as she smoothed the rough, hand-me-down cotton and couldn't help but wonder if this was what her life would have been like without the Conquering.

"I'm ready."  Andera said, going back into the dining room.

"You look nice.  Are you sure you're up to this?"

"I'll be fine."  Evin nodded and led her back into her room and out the door.  Kaji, who Andera hadn't seen yet that morning, jumped down from a tree just outside the door then climbed up onto Andera's shoulder, where he chattered happily.  Evin just glanced and him and kept walking.

The streets of Rahallow were tidy and quiet.  The town was nestled in a clearing, but a few houses looked out between trees on the hills that rose on every side.  The main road split in the middle of the town, one fork going northwest and the other northeast.  "It's the Great Road North."  Evin explained.  "The west fork becomes the Vassa Road and goes straight to Scanra."

"Where do you work, anyway?"

"The Rider's Own; it's a tavern.  I run it.  A good friend of mine started it but I've been handling it for almost five years.  There's a pretty interesting story behind it, too."  

"I'd like to hear it sometime."

"Later, for sure.  Where were you running from?  If you don't mind my asking."

"A story for a story."  Andera proposed.

"As long as yours is interesting—mine is."

"I'm running from Tortall and the Gennature."  Andera started.  "More directly it was Mindelan.  I'm just not cut out to be the Gennature's version of a noble.  I was doing find in Yamani but then they asked us to move back here.  Now, at least once a month, I just feel like I'm going to explode."

"I thought most of the Mindelan's had hazel eyes."

"They do.  I'm not Mindelan by blood, just raising."

"What are you by blood?"

"Lost."

"So you ran off because the family that took you in was stifling you?"

"No!"  Andera answered quickly.  "I ran off because I got Oranie's horse killed and I felt guilty.  Then Iness said things that made me think maybe we'd all be better off if I was somewhere else.  I know better now."

"So you do plan on returning home?"

"As soon as I can find Oranie a new horse."

"Well, horses are pretty easy to find around here.  We run races through those hills and people come from all over to bet on or enter the races.  The winners run pretty high prices but the losers are usually affordable."  Evin paused and looked down at Andera.  "So you were Yamani raised?"  Andera nodded.  "You fight?"

Andera smiled.  "I know glaive, long bow, _shukusen_, and some Shang.  I had to learn Shang second-hand because they don't let the Gifted ones learn it.  Kel would come home and teach me everything she learned."

"You're Gifted?"  Andera nodded again.  "And you're telling that information to a stranger.  It's dangerous to be Gifted these days, lass."

Andera shrugged.  "I'd know if I couldn't trust you.  I've got good instincts."

"Have you had any training in it?"

"Some in Yamani but none since we moved."

"We're here."  They stopped in front of a red brick building.  Evin pushed the door open and led Andera inside.  Andera had never been in a tavern before but she immediately liked the noisy, bustling room.  "Why don't you go out back to the courtyard."  Evin had to almost shout in her ear to be heard.  "It's a beautiful day and quieter outside.  I'll have someone bring you out a chair and some blankets.  Do you think you'll be ok?"  Andera nodded, guessing her voice wasn't up to being heard.  "Alright, I'll come out to check on you later.  Osben!"  Evin raised his voice to a bellow that could have been heard on a battlefield.  A dark-haired and brown-eyed man came forward.  "This is Andera.  I want you to take care of her—take her outside, chair blankets, liquid, whatever she needs.  I've got a meeting to get to."

Osben led her through the room to a small door.  The courtyard was cool, shaded by small pines and surrounded by a tall, brick wall.  Most of it was carpeted by lush green grass but there was an area of packed dirt in the center.  Osben brought out a chair, blankets and, upon her request, a large cup of water, then left.  There was a mop leaning against the wall drying.  Andera carefully took the top off, making sure she could put it back on, and then took the mop poll to the packed dirt center of the courtyard.  She stretched then started a slow glaive pattern dance.


	13. Identity

A/N— Please read and review. Thank you. I hope you enjoy. I've been getting some pretty helpful reviews. Here's another short chapter but this one is packed full with information. (And edited again. Each time I read through, I miss at least a few typos. If anyone finds them, let me know.)

_City of the Gods, Tortall_

_Early summer, 458 H.E._

Jasson chewed on his fingernails, a habit he thought he'd broken. George sat at the table, his head in his hands. Liam lounged by the hearth, trying to look unconcerned. Gerry reached over and gently pulled Jasson's hand away from his mouth. "There'll by none of that now, lad." He said softly. Jasson swallowed thickly and nodded, tucking his hands between his back and the chair. The door to Lianne's room opened and Mady came out, brushing her hands on her apron. George jumped to his feet and Jasson stumbled to his.

"It's the flu for sure." Mady said solemnly. "The Daghers' sons came down with it a few days ago."

"Is there anything you can do?" Jasson asked, his voice barely coming out.

"Not much, but she's a strong lass; she might pull through on her own."

George cleared his throat. "Can I see her?"

Mady nodded. "You can, but the lads should stay clear." George followed Mady back into Lianne's room and closed the door. Jasson collapsed into his chair and tilted his head back. He took two deep breaths then scrambled to his feet and ran. He heard Gerry call after him as he bolted through the door but didn't listen. He ran up the road—up the mountain—filling his lungs with the clear mountain air and lengthening his stride, emptying his mind and opening it to the mountain around him.

Memories flashed through his consciousness. Their first meeting with Gerry, George telling him about his parents, the girl in Port Caynn. The memories got older as his legs, separate from his mind, carried him up the mountain. The very first time he saw the City of the Gods, Port Legann, Persopolis, little towns and cities throughout Tortall. Things George had taught him—dagger fighting and thievery—and the first time he was successful at either. He raced further and his mind went back to the memories that sometimes woke him up on lazy summer nights. Stairs loomed in front of him and he was racing another boy, older, with much longer legs and an unfair advantage. The boy stayed level with Jasson as they ran until, with a mischievous smile, he dashed away. "Roald!" Jasson yelled, jarring his mind out of its memories and back to the present.

He slid to a halt, gasping for breath. Roald. Roald used to love running, and Jasson had always tried to follow him. Jasson sat down hard in the road, his whole body shaking. He tipped his head back and screamed at the sky, fury coursing through him. He was tired of not knowing, tired of being poor, and tired of the Gennature. He screamed until his voice was gone then just collapsed, lying on his back in the road.

Jasson trudged back to the clearing at dusk. George was waiting for him outside the house, a ragged coat draped around his thin frame. "You doin' ok, lad?"

Jasson stopped by George on the porch and shook his head. "Did I have a brother, cousin, someone besides Liam and Lianne?"

"You rememberin' things Jasson?"

"Not really."

"You had an older brother."

"Roald." Jasson interrupted. "We were going t'leave." George said nothing, not sure what Jasson was talking about. "You'd said Port Legann."

"We'll still be leavin' soon."

"Why?" Jasson demanded. "Why can't we stay here or _any_where? Why do you drag us all over the land?"

"Because that's how things have to be right now."

Jasson fixed wide eyes on George, waiting for something more, but George didn't say anything. Jasson shook his head. "Not good enough." He said, turning his back on George and walking inside.

"Jasson." George called, but Jasson ignored him and closed the door. Gerry and Mady were sitting at the table. Jasson walked past them and climbed up the ladder to his room. Not closing the trap door, he perched on the edge of the floor.

"What was that about?" That was Gerry's low rumble.

"Just a little discontent, I hope." George answered. "I'm afraid you've been too good of friends to us. Jasson doesn't want t'leave, and now I don't know what else to do."

"Our offer for Lianne to stay with us still stands, of course." Mady added.

"I couldn't leave her here." George said. "It's too dangerous for you and her."

"May we ask why? Are you in trouble with the law, George?" Gerry asked.

A long sigh followed that Jasson recognized as George's then everything was quiet for awhile. "Somethin' like that." Jasson could hear George's smile in his voice.

"Well, it must be for more then thievery if you're worried about Lianne gettin' hurt by stayin' here." Mady said.

"Much more. It's for being born, and it's the kids, not me, who are in trouble." There was a sharp intake of breath when George said this; Jasson couldn't tell from whom. "You see, those kids are three of the most precious things left in Tortall."

"How so?" Mady sounded confused and breathless. Jasson had to consciously keep his breathing slow and steady.

"They are heirs to the Conté throne, every one of them." Jasson could feel the heavy silence in the room below him. He dared not move, though his mind was whirling.

"But all the Contés were killed in the Conquering 'cept for the queen." Gerry said finally.

"The Gennature king said that, didn't he? I assure you, however, at least the three youngest lived as well. I was with them when Corus fell, and we were on our way to Treabond, not in the capital. We got there, too, but the place was swarming with Gennature. That's when I decided it would be best to lay low for a while. My plan was to just stay in Port Caynn for a few years until I could contact Thayet or someone else." George paused.

"What happened?" Mady prodded.

"Well, Numair had put a spell on all five children that would hide them from the notice of strangers who wished them harm, but after a year in Port Caynn the people we were around often started to notice things. The longer we stayed, the more people began to comment on their likeness to the dead royal family, how their ages and coloring were just like the princes and princess."

"No matter all that, we'd like her to stay with us." Gerry interrupted. "You're right that you and the lads should be on yer way, but the lass can't travel."

"We don't get many visitors even in summer. No one will learn to recognize her—that we'll promise." Mady added.

Jasson pulled his legs up into the room and went to the window without making a sound. Outside the clouds were breaking up and stars were beginning to show through. Jasson curled up in a tight ball on the window ledge and stared, unseeing, out at the mountains.


	14. Discovery

A/N—Please read and review. Thank you. I hope you enjoy. Real short chapter that I've had written for a while so I figured I'd actually update it.

Thank you Rubber Duck for all the reviews, especially the note about the summary, which I will get to. I've kind of been neglecting this story.

_Corus, Tortall_

_Early summer, 458 H.E._

Roald lay on his back on the floor of the dungeon cell, his hands behind his head for a pillow and his knees up. He was singing despite the protests of the other prisoners and had been doing so all night. There was a clanging at the other end of the hall of cells but Roald ignored it. Not only had the guards taken his bond papers and dagger, but also the Conté ring he wore around his neck. He'd felt Numair's protection spell waver as the Gennature guard studied him and the ring, so now he was expecting an interrogation. Someone rapped on the metal bars of his cell and Roald tilted his head to see. The blonde Gennature and a man who could have been Gennature or Tortallan stood in front of his cell.

"Yer commin' with us." The second ordered, his northern burr proving he was Tortallan. Roald got slowly to his feet.

"Lucky me," he mumbled, sticking his wrists through the bars so they could tie them before letting him out. "Where are we going?" Roald asked as they led him down the hall.

"The Commander wishes to see you." The Tortallan sneered.

"Lucky me," Roald mumbled again. "That must be quite an honor."

"Not for the likes of you." The Tortallan said. "Stop draggin' yer feet." He added, roughly pushing Roald forward for emphasis.

"Leave him alone, Drake." The Gennature ordered. "If I were you, boy, I'd come up with a good reason for why you had that ring with you." He said, sounding sincere in his concern.

"Why? It won't change anything. I could say I pulled it off a dead man and your commander would still decided I did something wrong." Roald replied. "I know he's going to kill me. The only mystery left is how." Neither of Roald's guards responded to that and they walked on in silence.

"Don't be stupid, boy." The Gennature warned before opening a small, dark door and ushering Roald inside.

The commander of the Gennature military was a thin, sickly looking man. He had sunken cheeks, a gray complexion, and black eyes set close together and far back in his head. His nose was more like a beak and his lips were so thin and pale Roald had to look carefully to find them. Roald hadn't seen him since he had been eleven and remembered being more afraid of him. Now, there was no fear left and Roald was just disgusted and disappointed.

"Leave him." The Commander ordered in Gennature, his voice high and nasally. The two men bowed their way out. The Commander held up his hand, dangling Roald's ring, still on its twine necklace, from one finger and curling his lips up into a cruel smile. "Where did you get this?"

Roald met the Commander's cold, black eyes with his own sapphire ones. He said nothing. The Commander set the ring down on the table he was sitting at. A look of intrigue came into his eyes. "You're not afraid of me." It was a statement, not a question and Roald remained motionless and silent. "Not even a little. Good for you." Roald blinked. "They said there was something odd about you but I was skeptical. Oh well, whether you are or are not a Conté hardly matters. Killing one of my military will get you hung either way."

"I killed a thief, not one of your men." Roald said coldly.

"Oh yes, I know."


	15. Healing

A/N—Please read and review. Thank you. I hope you enjoy. Another chapter that I've had laying around for a while.

_Corus, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Neal wandered through Corus without any specific destination. Dom and Buri had left somewhere that morning without telling him or inviting him along. The basement had been locked and Neal hadn't been able to find either Gary, so he'd left the inn.

Eventually he found himself standing outside one of Corus' two sick houses. It was a small, narrow, two-story building. Neal went in through the public entrance, noticing a sign that read "No Gennature" in both languages. The waiting room was crowded, mostly with mothers holding one or more children. Neal walked through the lobby and down a hall, glancing at the signs for different wards.

"We won't treat him." A sharp voice said from a room at the end of the hall, its door slightly ajar.

"Of course we will." Another man said.

"No, Almen, I mean it." The first man ordered. There was a low groan.

"Please!" A woman sobbed.

"Of course, m'am. Don't worry about a thing." The second man answered.

"We don't take their kind here. For the last time, Almen." The first said. Neal was beginning to get a clear picture of the situation. "It'll mean your job." For a while the only sounds were the man's groans and the woman's sobs.

"Then you just lost your best healer. Healing has no race." Neal smiled. How often had he heard his father say those exact words?

"You'll regret this, Almen." The first man said, slamming the door open and stepping past Neal without noticing him. Neal walked into the room. The healer, Almen, had his back to him. A man with a deep cut across his chest lay on the table. A slight woman clung to his hand.

"I thought you were leaving, Bryce." Almen said.

"You look like you could use some help." Neal replied.

Surprised, Almen looked over his shoulder. He was long past middle age but not yet old, with thin, cinnamon and sugar hair, and calm, gray eyes. "Alright, who are you?"

"Neal Dole." Neal answered.

"Are you a healer here?" Almen asked while waving Neal in. "If so, you don't want to help me."

"I'm a healer." Neal answered. "That's all that matters." With a smile and a small nod, Almen started to work. The wound wasn't as bad as it had first looked and it wasn't much work for the two healers. They patched the man up, assured him he wouldn't even have a scar, then sent him on his way.

"Come on, kid. I'll show you where you can wash your hands." Almen led Neal to a shed in the courtyard with a water pump inside. "That was good healing in there. It's been awhile since I've seen someone work like that."

Neal pumped water for them both. "Like what?"

"With the attitude that healing is what matters and not politics. Healing for the patient's good."

Unsure exactly what Almen was talking about, Neal shrugged. "It's the only way I know how."

Almen looked at Neal carefully. "Are you busy today, kid?"

Neal shook his head. "I'm just wandering around."

"Well, then, would you let me take you to lunch? I'm curious to know where you're from."

"I'd enjoy lunch." Neal replied.

Almen smiled. "I know the perfect place to go. It has the best food in the city."

Almen took long, fast strides across the city. The streets weren't crowded compared to Prot Legann but the people Neal did see looked poorer. Wealthy or even well off commoners were rare, replaced by ragged beggars.

"What are you going to do now?" Neal asked.

"Oh, I'm not worried." Almen answered. "I'll get my job back in a week or two."

As they left the center of town there were fewer and fewer people around. They walked down a street with tall thin houses pressed together on either side. Almen led Neal to one of these, its door painted light blue.

"Ahrei," Almen called as he opened the door, "I'm home and I brought someone for lunch." The door opened into a long hall with a stairway on the left, two doors to the right and one at the end of the hall. The second door along the hall opened and a girl about Neal's age came out. She was tall and thin with light brown skin and long, straight, dark brown hair. She wore a green dress, nicely made but not frilly, with a cream apron tied around her waist. She glanced at Neal with cold, gray eyes.

"My dear, this is Neal Dole. He's a healer. Neal, my daughter, Ahrei."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Neal said with a slight bow.

Ahrei dipped into an even slighter curtsey. "You too." She answered tersely. "I suppose you'll be wanting lunch." She said, directing this statement at her father.

"Whatever you can whip up, dear." Almen replied. Ahrei went back into the room she'd come from. Almen took Neal's coat, hanging it with his own by the door, and then led him to the room at the end of the hall. This room was as wide as the house. It had a hearth, couch, lounge chairs and a short table at one end, and a dining table with four wooden chairs at the other end. Following Almen's lead, Neal sat down at the table.

"If you don't mind me asking, kid, where are you from?"

"Port Legann." Neal answered automatically. "My father owns a small clinic there. He was a healer before the war."

"Ahh, did he study with Duke Baird?" Neal nodded. "And taught you to heal?"

"Yes."

"That would explain your ethics, kid." Almen said. "Under the duke healers took an oath, swearing to heal for the patient, to disregard race and origin and birth. He was a very fair man, the duke, and an amazing healer as well."

"Did you learn to heal at the University?" Neal asked, intrigued by this link to his father's past.

"No, but I worked here and had to take that oath. I was born in Sarain and stayed there long enough for Ahrei to turn three. We're K'mir and we fled here with the queen."

Ahrei brought out a pitcher and Almen poured three glasses full of a light brown liquid. Neal sipped it experimentally. It was fruit cider, easily the best he'd ever tasted.

"This is delicious." Neal said.

"Ahrei makes it." Almen replied. "She won't even tell me what she puts in it." Ahrei also brought out bowls, plates, and utensils. They had a vegetable soup with spices Neal couldn't identify, a hard, dark brown bread and sugared fruit—all the best food Neal had ever eaten. Ahrei served them then sat down across from Neal to eat.

"Matthew came by this morning." Ahrei said as she gathered up their dishes.

"Did he say anything?" Almen asked.

"Just that he wanted to talk to you." Ahrei called from the kitchen.

"How's the arm?"

"I checked it." Ahrei said. "We'll have to take the stitches out in a few days."

"Well, I guess I'll go see if he's home. I've got nothing else that needs to get done today. Ahrei, why don't you take Neal out and show him the city?"

"Of course, father." Ahrei replied.

Almen got his coat then turned to Neal. "It was a nice surprise, meeting you today, Neal. I hope to see you around."

"You too." Neal said. Almen nodded then left.

"Is there any particular place you want to see?" Ahrei asked. "Corus really isn't a tourist stop anymore."

"I'm not exactly a tourist." Neal replied.

"Then get your coat." Ahrei ordered. She took a thin, light gray cloak off the hooks by the door and handed Neal his.

As they walked through the city, Ahrei pointed out the different districts but other then that she didn't talk much. Neal saw, without surprise, that the city was mainly split in two. Wealthy Gennature lived on the far outskirts of the city and gradually bled into the poorest Gennature then poor Tortallans through wealthy Tortallans. It was only in the worst slums of the city that the Gennature and the Tortallans mixed regularly. They walked all through the city, coming to the no-man's-land between the city and palace last. Ahrei stopped for the first time, standing on the edge of the expanse of rubble and staring across at the palace. The sun was setting, stretching the shadows of the ruins, and a slight breeze came up, picking at their coats and whipping Ahrei's hair across her face. Neal felt it was a good moment to say something.

"How long have you lived in Corus?" He asked.

"Since the end of the war." Ahrei answered. She sat down on a small block on the side of the road. "I was born in Sarain and my father practiced healing in the north until the war started. What about you?"

"My father practiced healing here but I was born a little further north. After the war we moved to Port Legann."

"It looks so grand and forbidden from down here." Ahrei said after a moment of silence. Neal followed her gaze to the palace gates.

"It was—looked—grand before the war, too." Neal sat down on another block. Ahrei glanced sideways at him.

"I wanted to take a servant's job there last year, helping out all the ladies who come to court and things like that, but my father wouldn't let me. He says we left Sarain because of rulers like the Gennature and he wouldn't have me working for them. He still holds out for the Tortall we first moved to coming back eventually. He wants me to be a healer."

"You're Gifted?"

"Yes. Gray." Ahrei said softly. "We should get going." She stood up and brushed out her skirt. "Where are you staying?"

"Cythera's Home Inn. It's down the street there but I'll walk you back." Ahrei hesitated then nodded.


	16. Story

A/N—Please read and review. Thank you. I hope you enjoy. Another chapter that I've had laying around for a while, but the last update for tonight.

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Andera pulled her legs up closer to her chest as she watched the flames dance in the hearth. She was leaning against the edge of her bed with Kaji curled up on top of her feet. Evin sat in the large armchair smoking a small pipe and reading, as was his custom. Mistress Kelly and Benni were at Treabond again. They had come home once to get clothes and had left again. The young mother was strong and healthy but there was some worry over the child, and so Mistress Kelly and Benni had agreed to stay at Treabond as nursemaids for a few months.

Andera looked up at Evin. "You promised me a story." She said after a moment. Evin closed his book and looked over at her, his eyes quiet.

"I did, didn't I?" He said, setting his pipe and book aside. Andera nodded. "And I take it you'd like to hear it now." Andera nodded again.

"Many years ago," Evin began, "a young knight traveled far to the north to retrieve a prized jewel for her prince." Andera leaned slightly closer, excitement building as Evin continued his story. "However, she returned not only with this jewel but also with a young princess for her prince to marry. This princess was not like most. She brought with her her loyal friend, who could hold her own against any knight. The princess could also fight well and she wanted only to become a commoner and teach. But when the princess met the prince, now king, they fell in love and were married not long after. The new queen did many great things for her land and its commoners. Now, I'm sure you have heard versions of this story many times before but I just like telling it."

Andera nodded again and Evin smiled. "My part of the story starts several years later. You see, one of the things the queen did for commoners was create the Queen's Riders, which was open to people of all classes to learn how to fight and serve their queen. I joined these Riders when they were a well-established and very successful group. I served under the queen's loyal friend, Buri, and I must brag—I was a very good Rider." Evin paused and fixed his eyes on the flames leaping in the hearth. "And then the war came. Those of us who were fortunate enough to survive the war faced disbandment when we reached Corus while our commanders—I'm including the King's Own here—faced death. Our commanders fled the night before our disbandment. Most of us left Corus the next day. I came here. I'd met Benni during the war and I had nowhere else to go. All the other friends I had were nobles or Riders or Own, who were losing their homes and lives just like I was.

"Buri showed up here a week after my wedding. She bought that old brick building and turned it into a tavern and she told me what she'd been doing since the end of the war. She had started an organization, centered around a tavern in Port Caynn, that was a network of warriors so when the time came for rebellion against the Gennature, Tortall would have an army. At first we were only old Riders and Own members, but we started training and recruiting others. We also went from Buri's one tavern in Prot Caynn to four taverns throughout Tortall." Evin's smile was broad and his eyes sparkled. "We even train women."

Andera looked at him, wide-eyed. "And the Gennature don't—"

"They know."

"Then why?"

"They know they are going to have to deal with rebellions. The Riders Own has an agreement with the Gennature Commander that says we are allowed to continue as long as we abide by a few rules. We must stay underground and never go public. Also, our leaders, myself included, have given our names to the Gennature. We are monitored, as are out taverns. Any rebellion in Tortall can be placed on our shoulders and we can be arrested and the taverns closed down. Therefore, we act as the Gennature's policemen against our own people. Until, of course, the time is right for rebellion." He watched Andera with an expression she couldn't read.

"How will you know when the time is right?" Andera asked.

"That depends. Hopefully we will see it when an opportunity presents itself. And, we will defiantly be ready." Evin paused again, making sure she didn't have any more questions along those lines. "Do you want to learn?"

"Learn what?"

"To be a Riders Own. You learn weaponry and tactics and strategy."

"I'd love to." Andera said, her eyes bright.

Evin stood up and pulled Andera to her feet, Kaji chattering a protest. Kaji climbed up to Andera's shoulder, still chattering angrily in her ear. Andera followed Evin out and down the street. It was dark, the moon a tiny sliver in the sky and the sun long since set. The stars sparkled brightly in the sky but offered little light for the ground. Andera followed Evin closely, not sure where they were going. The night was warm and Andera didn't even think about the cloak she'd left draped over her bed.

"I didn't know you'd meant now." Andera said after a little while. She couldn't see Evin's face but guessed by his tone he was smiling.

"Why not now? You said you've learned glaive and some Shang."

"Yes. And Iness taught me a little sword while we were living in Yamani. He gave me lessons for fourteen months until ma and pa found out and made him stop. I've practiced some since then."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Do you dance?"

Andera looked sharply at him, surprised. "Well, yes."

Evin nodded. "And you ride, of course." Andera nodded. "Do you plan on entering the races?"

"If I had a mount I would."

They reached the tavern, which was dark and locked up. It looked strange to Andera without its usual, bustling crowd. Evin unlocked the door and ushered her inside. He lit two candles, handing one to Andera. "The Riders Own runs eight horses on the condition that half of any winner's purse goes to the tavern. Are you interested?"

"Very." Andera said excitedly.

"Then I'll find you a horse to ride." Evin set his candle on the bar and went behind it. Andera sat down in one of the bar stools, waiting. He straightened and slid a small, wooden sword across the bar to her. "My guess is that it's not that different from glaive and that you'll turn out to be a natural."

"What makes you say that?" Andera asked, picking up the sword and seeing how it fit into her hand and studying the smooth, light wood. "You've never seen me practice with anything but a broom stick."

"Ahh, but you are very good at the broomstick." Evin said with a sly smile. "And who knows, maybe it'll turn out that sword is in your blood."

Andera snapped her head up but Evin had bent down behind the counter again. He had sounded much too sure of himself for Andera's comfort when talking about her bloodline. "Have you ever used a shield?" Evin asked from below the counter.

Andera shook her head then caught herself. "No."

"Then we'll save that for later." Evin straightened then hopped over the bar. "Come on." He led her out to the courtyard, where he lit the torches in a ring around the packed dirt center. He looked over the way she held the weapon but said nothing about it and went straight to the lesson. Andera was surprised at how much she remembered from Iness' teachings and how easy and natural it all felt to her. Her muscles were hardened from years of glaive practice and she wielded the small sword without effort. Several times Evin had to tell her to relax and back off. Evin stopped her after a few hours and they were both yawning once they stopped moving. Andera went to hand the sword back to Evin but he shook his head.

"It's yours now." He slung his arm over Andera's shoulders and guided her back inside. Andera extinguished the torches with a wave of her hand. Evin locked up the tavern again and they walked back to the house in companionable silence.


	17. Rescue

A/N—Nope, I haven't fallen off the edge of the world or anything and sorry to any readers I still have left that I haven't updated in so long. This is actually a direct response to _Sam ()_'s update request I got the other day. I decided that updating would be fun and sat down to write the next installment, when I realized I had unposted material on my computer already, so—here's some of that. I hope you enjoy.

_Corus, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Roald rolled over onto his side in the dark cell. A ball of sapphire magic offered him just enough light to see the corner of the cell in which he lay. He shifted again, trying desperately to find a comfortable way to lie on the stone. Finally he found a position that didn't dig into any of his bruises or scrape at his cuts. Roald drew his magic back and closed his eyes. Like usual, sleep refused to come to him. He could hear the other prisoners breathing up and down the long hall of cells. The door at the far end creaked gently open and footsteps echoed down the hall. Roald listened carefully as the footsteps got closer and closer. The man seemed to be trying to walk quietly but the letting him. He stopped across from Roald's cell and Roald waited. He was carrying no lantern, which struck Roald as odd.

"I mean you no harm, boy." The man hissed in a whisper. His Common was thickly accented with Gennature. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Roald sat up quietly, his cotton clothes and bear feet making little noise. He crept to the edge of the cell and crouched just out of reach of the man. "I find that challenging to accept."

The man kneeled, wearing an expression of resignation. "I'll do whatever I need to do to convince you." He said, still keeping his voice low. "And you'd be more convincing in all _your_ stories if you didn't talk so educated. Why couldn't you say that's hard to believe or something of the like?"

Roald rocked back on his heels. "Because I'm done hiding from you. I've been talking like you for many years and I'm tired of it."

"So are you admitting it? Are you really the Conté prince?"

Roald snorted. "I'm admitting that I'm educated, which most Tortallans born before the war can say. And it would be the Conté king."

"See, now, that's what's bothering me. If you are him, what I want to do would be really stupid. However, if you are or if you aren't, my conscious wouldn't be happy if I didn't." The man said as if thinking aloud.

Roald rocked forward again, balancing on his toes. The man stood up and Roald heard keys. The door to the cell swung open. Roald sprang to his feet and backed up, blue magic gathering above his palm so he could see the man's face. It was the blonde Gennature to whom Roald had first spoken.

"What are you doing?" Roald asked in Gennature. The man looked surprised but didn't make any moves.

"I'm risking my life for you." He answered in Gennature, watching Roald's face closely in the blue light to judge if he understood. Roald narrowed his eyes, considering his options. "I'm trying to help you." The man switched back to Common.

"I understood you." Roald said in a sharp edged whisper. "I'm deciding if I can trust you."

"You can't." The man answered.


	18. Reunion

A/N—Nope, I haven't fallen off the edge of the world or anything and sorry to any readers I still have left that I haven't updated in so long. This is actually a direct response to _Sam ()_'s update request I got the other day. I decided that updating would be fun and sat down to write the next installment, when I realized I had unposted material on my computer already, so—here's some of that. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and all the chapter name's changed because ff won't let me post multiple chapters under the same name anymore so I changed them.

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Kel pulled Chet to a stop beside Iness and Daecon stopped on her other side. Iness glanced around at the modest sized town that straddled the fork in the Great Road North as it turned into the Vassa Road.

"Where are we?" Kel asked Iness, but it was Daecon who answered.

"Rahallow. Home of the best horserace in the eastern lands and some of the best horse flesh in Tortall."

"Have the men find places to camp along the road." Iness ordered Mercen, who nodded and rode back to tell the men. "You two," Iness said, addressing Kel and Daecon together as many did now, "let's see if we can find an inn to stay in so we don't have to camp again." Daecon looked absolutely thrilled at the prospect of getting to stay in Rahallow. They set out down the street, their eyes scanning both sides of the road for and inn or, as always, any sign of Andera.

"That's odd." Iness said, stopping his horse in front of an old brick tavern. Kel and Daecon exchanged confused glances.

"What's odd?" Kel asked.

"The Rider's Own." Iness said, gesturing to the sign that hung above the door. Kel waited for him to finish explaining. Finally he saw that she didn't understand and said more. "The Queen's Riders and the King's Own. They were disbanded after the Conquering." Iness frowned. "It's probably nothing. Come on, I think that's an inn up there." They rode forward again, Iness glancing over his shoulder at the tavern.

The inn was a small, quaint, cream-colored building with a balcony around the outside. A sign just inside the door told all guests that meals could be purchased at the Rider's Own Tavern. A bell dangling from the door rang as they stepped through. The lobby had only two small windows but its lively décor gave the impression of a well-lit room. A small, round, white-haired woman came down the stairs and smiled at them.

"I'm sorry to say, sir," she said before Iness could speak, "but we're full. The races are this month." She explained. "In another week you won't even be able to find a place to camp. This time of year most people rent out rooms, though." She went over to a short bookshelf and pulled out a large, brown book, opening it on the table along the wall. "How many rooms are you looking for, youngin'?"

Iness smiled at the woman. Kel guessed it had been a long time since anyone had called him _youngin_. "One or two." He answered, but only for two nights.

The woman flipped through her book. "So you aren't here for the races, how unusual. Why have you come to Rahallow, if you don't mind my asking?"

"No, not at all. You might even be able to help me with it." Kel was only half listening. Conversations like this one had taken place at every town and woods hut on their trip, and Kel hardly paid attention to them anymore. "I'm wondering if you've seen a girl, ten years old, come through here. She has blonde hair with some red in it. She's pretty tall and thin and has purple eyes." The woman looked up from her book as Iness described Andera. "She's my little sister and goes by the name of Andera." Iness finished.

"I haven't seen any girls like that myself," the woman said and Iness sighed, "but Evin Larse has a stray living with him. She's been with him awhile and I doubt she's noble, but you can try."

Iness brightened. "Where can I find this Master Larse?"

"Ah, he's no master. He runs the tavern and he lives here." She flipped to a map of the town on the back cover of the book and showed Iness. "Also, you could ask for rooms here, here, or here." She said, sliding her finger across the map. "Just tell them the inn sent you."

"Thanks, mistress." Iness said, leading Kel and Daecon back outside. "Daecon, find the men and tell Mercen Kel and I will probably be joining the camp again tonight."

"Yes sir." Daecon said, untying his horse and leaping back into the saddle.

Iness smiled at Kel, the first real smile she'd seen on his face in a long time. "Let's go talk to Mr. Evin Larse." He said cheerfully. They went to the tavern first, since it was just down the street. They asked around and finally found someone who was a regular and knew who Evin Larse was.

"Don't know where he is, though." The man told them, then, "Hey Conner, you seen Evin?"

"No." Another man yelled back.

"Who's lookin' for him?" Added a woman's voice from over by the bar. Kel looked around and found her sitting by and talking to a tall, blonde-haired man, who was standing behind the bar.

"Iness and Keladry of Mindelan." Iness answered when the first man looked questionably at them.

"Sir and Lady of Mindelan." The man bellowed to the woman. Kel now understood why the tavern was so loud. She saw the blonde haired man nod and the woman smiled.

"He's behind the bar." The woman yelled back and Kel guessed Evin was the blonde. Iness, upon seeing the woman and man, came to the same conclusion and led Kel over to the bar.

"What can I do for you, sir, lady?" He asked, giving a short nod to each of them, while drying a large, glass mug.

"We are looking for my little sister and the woman at the inn said you had a girl of about ten staying with you. My sister's name is Andera. She's tall and thin. She has red-blonde hair and purple eyes. If you know anything, I'd really appreciate it."

Evin was quiet except for the drumming of his fingers on the bar. He looked between Iness and Kel several times then sighed.

"The corrals for the races are set up at the far end of the street. You shouldn't have any trouble finding them. There's one corral for the tavern—has half dozen horses in it." He paused and Kel could tell Iness was holding his breath. Evin shrugged and set down the mug. "She's there."

Neither Kel nor Iness moved. "Are you sure it's her?" Kel asked.

Evin smiled and it lit up his face. "Yeah, I'm sure. She might be riding but she'll be done soon."

They left the tavern almost at a run and rode as fast as they could. The crowd thickened when they reached the corrals and they dismounted, pushing their way through. Kel was the first one to see her. She was dressed in a plain cotton skirt that was too short for her and a blouse that was slightly too big. She held the reigns of a tall, long-legged mare and was talking to Daecon. A white ferret jumped from the mare's saddle to Andera's shoulder. Kel turned to call to Iness but he was already at her shoulder. Andera and Daecon were the only ones around the tavern's corral.

"Kit!" Iness bellowed. Andera looked up and smiled. The ferret jumped down to the ground just as Andera shoved the reigns into Daecon's hands and ran towards them. Iness spun her around and Kel hugged her fiercely, all three of them talking at once. Finally they calmed down some and all three of them stopped talking. Kel glanced at Daecon, who was stroking the horse's nose and smirking at them.

"You have some explaining to do, Kitten." Iness said. Andera dropped her eyes and an unreadable Yamani mask came over her face.

"I'm sorry." Andera said.

"Do you know how much you scared us? We woke up and you were gone—no explanation. And then the healer told me you hadn't gone to get your ankle looked at." Iness gained momentum and sternness. "With Scanran raiders on the road this time of year and Gennature patrols—always Gennature patrols. What were you thinking? What possessed you?" Andera's eyes were riveted on her shoes, and Kel and Daecon had dropped their smiles.

"I heard you and Oranie talking." Andera said in a small voice. "I heard what you said and I thought…I thought it'd be better if…if…I thought it'd be easier on you." She finished lamely, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

Iness grabbed her in another tight hug. "I'm sorry, Kit." Iness said, all his fatherly sternness gone. "I just worry about you. I wish you hadn't been listening."

Andera pulled away and wiped her eyes. "But you were right."

"I was a fool." Iness corrected.

Andera shook her head and opened her moth to say something more but was cut off. "So, are you takin' her home?" Asked a lazy drawl from behind them. Kel turned. Evin Larse leaned against a post of the corral across from them.

"Yes." Iness said.

"No." Andera said at the same time. Kel stepped back to stand by Daecon.

"Yes." Iness said again.

"I'm still going to stay for the races." Andera said, her tone unyielding. Daecon smiled and Kel could tell he really wanted to stay as well.

"No." Iness said in a terse way that meant he was just saying what he thought he should say.

"Iness, I've been training and I won't do anything I shouldn't, I promise."

Iness looked at her. "How's your ankle?"

"It's fine. Mistress Kelly took care of me." Andera replied, glaring up at him.

"Alright, but I'm going to send half of the men home. There's no reason we should take up so many good camping sites with these famous races coming to town." He smiled down at her and she smiled, too. Iness kissed her forehead. "You are going to have to tell me everything about your adventure later." He said.

"They're camped north east off the road we came in on, sir." Daecon said. Iness nodded.

"Kel can sleep with me." Andera invited. Iness looked to Evin, who agreed with a smile.

"Then we'll meet for dinner." Iness said to Kel and Andera.

"It'll be a good chance for you to tell us your story. How about you two come to the camp?"

"Great." Andera said.

"Sure." Kel said, though she groaned inwardly at the thought of another night of her brother's camp food. Iness glanced at Andera again, giving Kel the impression he was making sure she was real, then left. Evin, too, had left, though Kel hadn't noticed when. Andera grabbed the reigns back from Daecon and started putting the horse away. Kel and Daecon helped her and while they worked, she talked.

"I'm ridding for the Rider's Own in the big race. It takes an average of five days, looping through the hills and mountains. I've ridden parts of it. Nobles and Gennature and commoners all enter, though Evin says that the people's favorite to win is a stable hand from fief Treabond. He came in second last year on his first race. I'm hoping to come in at least third because there are winner's purses for the first three to finish and that's the only way I'm going to be able to get Oranie a new horse. Evin said that some of them go for pretty cheap after the races. You'll love Evin, Kel." They let the horse back out in the corral. Andera glanced around then continued in a quieter voice. "He's teaching me to sword fight. You can join us tonight and he has something else you might be interested in. He can tell you tonight." The ferret was back and climbed up to Andera's shoulder, chattering loudly. "This is Kaji." Andera introduced. "He has sort of adopted me." She switched back to horses, suggesting they both enter in some of the small races.

They stayed on horses while Andera led them through the town to a nice house. She let them in and pulled her boots off, dropping them by the cot in the room. They exchanged stories until they had to meet Iness for dinner then went through them all again. After dark fell Evin, Andera, and Kel went to the tavern and practiced sword for an hour in the courtyard, which looked to Kel like it was accustomed to such use. Evin also told Kel about the military training deal he had with the Gennature and the purpose of the Rider's Own. After the days of long riding, the excitement of finding Andera, and the practice, Kel was exhausted, falling asleep the moment she lay down on her bedroll.


	19. Worse

A/N—Ok, I have two more sections typed up and waiting to be edited then posted after this. It'll probably be a few days. Please, read (of course) and review. I'll try to be good about updating for at least a little while.

_Royal Forest, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Roald could easily say that he'd never been in worse shape in his life. Not even directly after the Conquering had he been this sore, hungry, and dirty. Now he was crouched in the Royal Forest between two massive trees watching a doe graze. His stomach clenched in hunger and he tightened his hold on his rusty dagger. They needed food—him and the Gennature guard, Maron—but he doubted he could catch the doe. He also doubted the food would be worth the pain it would cause in his wounded shoulder. Watching the doe, he silently cursed himself. If only he'd been able to resist going to her room. Him and Maron could have gotten easily out of the palace and Maron could have gone back without anyone knowing. They would have both been fine now instead of hurt, hungry, and filthy. But when they'd reached the passage that led to her suits he hadn't been able to pass by. He winced now, remembering how he'd pleaded to convince Maron. "She's my mother. I just want to see her, just see her."

The doe took a few steps forward, finding a choice patch of grass. Roald shifted so he could see through the brush in front of him and winced as he accidentally brushed his shoulder against the rough tree bark.

Stupid, he thought. He'd been so stupid. He closed his eyes, forgetting about the doe and going over the horrible events detail by detail.

The hallway was very dark but his feet remembered the way. Maron followed uncertainty in his wake. They crouched at the end of the passage and she was just sitting there in a large chair. She was all alone in the room and she had a hand-written, leather-bound book on her lap. She looked just as Roald remembered her, except her black hair was shorter. Before he knew what he was doing, he opened the passage and stepped into the room. Maron grabbed at the back of his shirt but he pulled away. Thayet jumped to her feet, tense and defensive. They both froze, staring unbelieving at each other.

"Roald." She said but he sensed another's name had died on her lips and he felt weary.

"It's me, mother." He said. He was suddenly aware of how ratty he must look. She came across the room and gently brushed her hand against his cheek. There were tears in her eyes.

"You're real." Thayet whispered. "You look so much like your father." Roald felt himself drawing back a bit. "You've grown into a man and I wasn't there. What happened to you?" She took his hands and, glancing down at them, her expression changed. The first word that came to mind when Roald saw that look in her eyes was horrified. He looked down at his own hands, wondering, and saw the "X" between his thumb and forefinger. He hadn't thought about it since the day he'd been branded a murderer. He pulled his hands away but not before she saw his other brand—the large "B" on the underside of his wrist. He started to wish he hadn't come.

"I'm fine." Roald said automatically and defensively.

"You…" She said but couldn't finish. She threw her arms around him and pulled him against her in a tight hug. "I love you, Roald." She said. There was a sound from one of the adjoining rooms and all three of them tensed. Thayet let him go and he stepped back towards the passageway. "Gary has an inn called Cythera's Home. He'll be able to help you, Roald." Thayet said in a rush. "You must go see him."

Roald nodded then turned around and ran, Maron once again following him. And things had just gotten worse from there. Maron had been seen so he could never go back either and they'd both been wounded, Maron badly. If Thayet had been distressed to see him dusty, thin, and branded she would be appalled to see him now. He was covered in mud, dirt, and dried blood, most of which wasn't his. His clothes were in tatters, he hadn't eaten in days and his brands could still clearly be seen. More then anything else, what was bothering him was how she'd reacted to those brands. He'd never thought about them before; they'd never bothered him before, but they'd so easily upset her. And the problem was, while he could remedy filth, hunger, and injuries, he could never change those brands.

"Stupid." Roald said, not meaning to speak out load. The doe lifted her head, all her senses focused on where Roald was crouched. He hardly breathed until she lowered her head again. Roald waited for her to relax then jumped through the bushes, dagger ready. His twisted ankle screamed at him and he ripped open his shoulder wound again. The doe jumped away from him but his dagger caught her shoulder and ripped through to her chest with her movement. _I'll be able to follow her trail._ Roald thought, happily. She took another two leaps then froze.

A huge, black spidren lowered itself from the tree, watching them. The doe's muscles rippled then she darted away again. Roald stepped backwards into the trees and before he knew what was happening he was tumbling down a steep hill, going too fast to get his bearings. His already hurt left shoulder slammed into a rock, tearing through clothing, bandage, and skin. The contact whipped his body around so his whole left side was thrown against the rock. He felt bones break in his arm and ribs and a scream was ripped from his throat. He rolled over the rock and on down the hill. He reached out with his good arm and his fingers closed around a tree root. The momentum of his fall yanked his arm straight and pain exploded in his shoulder. Mercifully, he finally passed out.


	20. Healers

A/N—Thanks to doodlebug for reading and reviewing (and keeping a sharp eye out for my ever present typos.) And I know I said I'd do this update a week or so ago, but I just moved and had to wait to get internet installed. So anyway, here's another chapter and you get to learn the true identities of half in the prophecy—the others will come later. As always—please read and review (cc and typo corrections are forever appreciated.) Thanks and I hope you enjoy.

_Corus, Tortall_

_Summer 458 H.E._

Gary woke up but didn't remember the dream. He had a vague feeling about it and knew that there'd been a god or goddess in it, so it must have been important. He didn't know which divine being it had been or what they'd wanted. _Alright_, Gary thought, filing the dream away in his mind and opening his eyes. He'd fallen asleep at one of the basement tables so got up and stretched. The candle clusters that he'd left lit were burned down halfway. He grabbed one to carry up stairs with him and put the others out. He climbed up stairs to the kitchen, skipping the step that creaked. The kitchen was dark, and the clock in the common room said it was after midnight.

Gary mounted the stairs up to his room then stopped, cocking his head and listening. He thought he had heard a horse in the courtyard. He waited and the new bells on the kitchen door rang loudly. He blew out his candle as the sound bounced off the inn walls. _So it was someone who hadn't been to the inn since the beginning of the summer,_ Gary thought. The rest of them had learned to open the door without making noise. Gary knew he should wake up his father, but instead he crouched at the foot of the stairs, peering through the darkness at the door into the kitchen.

The intruder was wearing a dark cloak, so he couldn't see her face, and carrying a single candle. She stopped in the doorway and looked quickly around the common room then headed for the stairs.

"May I help you, ma'm?" Gary asked, standing up. She swung the candle around so its light flickered over him.

She forced a smile. "You must be little Gary." She said. "I'm looking for Roald." Gary frowned. "He should have come here several days ago." She added and there was unease clear in her voice.

"It's not clear what you are talking about, ma'm." Gary said.

"May I speak with your father, Gary?" She asked, though Gary sensed an order in it. He nodded and darted up the stairs, not really needing a light to get around the inn. He knocked twice on his father's door, paused, knocked once, paused, knocked once more and waited. His father opened the door and looked down at him through sleep-blurred eyes.

"Gary," he said, surprised, "it's the middle of the night."

"There's a woman downstairs asking for you." Gary the Elder frowned then followed his son back to the common room. The woman had lighted Gary's candles and removed her cloak. She sat at a table with the flames and shadows dancing across her face.

"Thayet!" Gary the Elder exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He sat down next to her. Young Gary sat down on the stairs where he could listen without being in the way.

"Where's Roald?" Thayet demanded.

"Thayet, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Roald, my son."

Gary leaned forward. "What?"

"He was a prisoner in the palace. I didn't know until he was escaping with the help of one of the Gennature guards. He came to my room, Gary. I told him to come here to get help, but that was six days ago."

"What was he in prison for?"

Thayet swallowed. "Murder, but he'd been a bond servant, too. The _king_ has been furious since he escaped. They were going to hang him. Are you telling me he never came here? They had started looking for him before he even left my room, but I know they got out of the palace. They got wounded, but they _did_ get out."

"Don't worry about it, Thayet. Gary, wake up people for a search and send a runner for Jin." Gary the Elder ordered without turning away from Thayet. Young Gary scrambled to his feet. "You should get back to the palace, but…"

Gary woke up Buri, Dom, Neal, and two of the waiters that lived and worked at the inn. Buri went straight down to the common room to see Thayet, but the rest of them went to the stable to saddle horses.

"What's going on, Gar?" Dom asked once they were within the stables.

"We've reason t'believe the eldest Conté prince is in Corus." Gary answered with a smile. "We're goin' t'go look for him."

"The seven of us are going to search all of Corus in the middle of the night?" Neal asked skeptically.

"Nope. The network will be on the lookout for him in the city or on the road. We'll prob'bly search the forest, maybe the hills, though they're more open and less likely."

Dom chuckled. "Imagine that, Neal. The kid's got a better sense for strategy then you do."

Neal glared at him but was cut off from a retort by Gary and Buri's entrance. They rode quickly but casually for the Royal Forest, avoiding Gennature patrols. When they reached the forest they spread out and settled into the saddle for a long night. They searched into the morning, weary of palace guards seeking the same quarry, and went back to the inn shortly before noon. They ate and checked in with Jin, who reported that the network had also been unable to find anything.

"This is crazy." Dom said when they set out for the forest again at dusk, this time with food and camping gear. "He's got a six day head start."

"But if he's wounded then he won't be traveling much or fast." Neal retorted.

They found the Gennature guard who had helped Roald escape hiding in some thick brush. He was so well hidden that they only found him by almost stepping on him. They dismounted. Neal and Dom crouched on either side of him. Gary stood off to the side to watch and listen. The man had a deep, badly bandaged cut on the side of his head just above his ear. He was also feverish and unconscious. Neal and Dom stayed with him and the rest of them fanned out, looking for any sign of the prince.

Gary found some green spidren web, fairly fresh, in a small clearing. There was also pressed grass, broken twigs, and blood. At one end of the clearing the thick brush hid the lip of a steep hill, dropping down into a ravine. Amongst some broken brush at the top was a rusty dagger. Gary yelled over his shoulder for the others then started down the hill, slipping and sliding as he went. There was a clear path where something big and heavy had rolled down the hill and blood splattered the rocks and shrubs. The man Gary found at the bottom of the ravine barley resembled a human. His clothes were in unsalvageable tatters, and he was covered in dirt, cuts, and blood. Even Gary could recognize that his left arm was broken, and there was something wrong with his right shoulder. His left shoulder was nothing more then torn flesh and bone, and underneath the wounds he was horribly thin. Gary couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. Gary heard others scrambling down the hill and whipped around. Blake, a waiter, was leading, followed closely by Neal and Buri.

"Gods, is he alive?" Blake exclaimed when he reached the bottom.

Neal stumbled to a stop and bent over the man, cursing fluently and loudly. Buri, too, stopped and looked closely at him. "It's the prince, for sure." She said. "Neal?"

"We need to get him back to the inn. I need a table and bandages and splints and willowbark for that other fellow and…" Neal cursed again. "He's a wreck."

Gary the Elder and the second waiter had arrived by then. Working as fast as they could they built a stretcher and somehow managed to carry the prince back up the ravine. When Dom saw him his eyes got huge.

"It's late; we could probably gat him to a sick house without too much trouble." Buri said. "No offense, Neal, but he needs more care then we can give."

"It's still risky." Gary the Elder said.

"No." Neal almost yelled. They all turned towards him.

"Neal—" Dom and Buri began together.

"First off, most healers wouldn't even look twice at him," he gestured to Maron. "And second, we might be able to convince a healer to risk it if we told them he's a Conté, but the Gennature watch the sick houses closely, especially if they know he's wounded. Any healer who treated either of them, if it was ever discovered, would be killed."

"That's barbaric." Blake said.

Neal shrugged. "That's Corus."

"Neal, you're crazy! I may not actually be a healer, but I know you couldn't treat either one of them by yourself. You and Uncle would have a hard time doing it." Dom yelled.

"We can get help, just no sick houses." Neal said. He glanced down at the two men on precariously built stretchers. "Get them to the inn alive and I'll take care of the rest. I'll meet you there." Neal swung onto his horse's back and kicked it into a canter, disappearing into the trees. Gary wondered briefly at the commanding change that had come over Neal when the issue was something he knew about.

They rigged the stretchers to the horses and set out for the inn as fast as they dared, always watchful for patrols. They made it to the inn safely and carried the wounded men down into the basement, laying them down on the tables. Dom did what he could for them, cleaning out and dressing their wounds and making willowbark tea. When Gary glanced at the still and battered form of Prince Roald a very clear, strong thought came forward in his mind. _Roald is the rightful king_. Gary frowned. _I guessed that already_. He told himself. _Yes, but you hadn't guessed that he was a bondservant for a man who sells antique swords and shields_. Another part of his mind said. Gary looked around self-consciously, but no one was paying attention to him. He pulled the prophecy book off its place on the shelves. Before he could open it Neal came in with an older man and a young woman. At the moment Gary knew, without any doubt, that Neal was the green healer and that that's what the dream had been about. In some inaccessible part of his mind, he now knew what every word in the prophecy meant, which also meant he was the boy of books, and he had three of the six.

When he left the others, Neal cantered and trotted as the underbrush would allow. Even as he ducked under a low branch his mind was back in the clearing going over the prince's wounds and what he could do. The right shoulder was dislocated and that was easy; Dom could do that. The horse lurched under him, jumping oven a fallen log, and Neal gripped his reigns tighter. Before the horse's feet hit the ground Neal was back to his thoughts. Right ankle—twisted—also easy. Broken ribs—at least three—not too bad. Left arm and shoulder—there was the problem. His arm was fractured in at least two places—the radius shattered. That would take a lot of magic and even so…The shoulder was torn to shreds and filthy. It had to be kept from infection.

The trees disappeared and Neal kicked his horse into a gallop. Now Maron was a different story. His surface wounds weren't as bad, but the cut on his head was already infected. The fever had a strong hold and would be hard to fight off—more magic. Also, he'd have to get some sort of nourishment into both of them, especially the prince. He was a big man, but he looked like his meals had been sporadic at best for a while now. If he got a fever it would probably take more than Neal had to save him. That brought him back to infection.

"Ho, there, halt!" Neal almost didn't register the command. He pulled back on the reigns, and his horse's hooves slid on the cobblestones as it tried to stop quickly. Neal turned around and faced a patrol of six city guards. He cursed under his breath, his mind working fast. "What are you doing here, and what's the hurry?" Their commander asked.

"Midwife." Neal said then started to stammer out an explanation. "My wife, she's pregnant—delivering—I'm fetching the midwife." He gestured ambiguously. "I think she might really need one. Please, sirs."

"Go about your way." The man said and backed away. Neal spun his horse back around and kicked him into a gallop again.

Infection, infection, infection…he tried to go back to cool, calm, and analyzing, but he'd lost his train of thought. Now everything he knew about medicine was tumbling around in his head and he couldn't control it. He leaned over the horse's neck, willing it to go faster. It was in that fashion that he almost missed the house. He pulled the winded horse to another abrupt stop and slid off. He ran up the steps, leaving the horse standing, head down, in the street, and pounded on the door.

"Almen, Ahrei!" He yelled, not caring who else he woke up. He saw lights go on inside, and a moment later Almen opened the door. Ahrei stood behind him on the stairs, a dressing gown wrapped around her shoulders.

"Neal, what is it?" Almen asked. "What happened?"

"Please, I need your help—both of you." Neal said. Almen nodded.

Too long—it took them too long to put on cloaks and boots and saddle horses, including a replacement for Neal's, and then they were galloping down the dark city streets again. When they reached the inn's courtyard faint color was growing on the horizon, and the city was bathed in the colors of dawn. Neal led them into the kitchen, not even bothering to be careful of the bells, and down into the basement. Dom had done a find job of turning the study into a hospital, and the unique sent of willowbark permeated the room.

Ahrei gasped sharply when she saw the two wounded men. Without anyone saying anything, the three of them joined Dom in carefully cleaning the men's wounds. When the basics were done, Almen took charge of Maron to stabilize his fever. Ahrei and Neal grimly set to work on Roald. When Neal got to the left arm Almen joined him and together they struggled to rejoin and regrow the bone. By the time they'd done all they could, Neal was dizzy and blurry-eyed. Ahrei was pale and even Almen looked asleep on his feet. Their patients were cleaner and bandaged, but it was still too early to tell. Dom watched Neal with a worried expression, and the others had fallen asleep around the room, young Gary over an open book. Neal dropped into a chair, put his head on the table, and promptly fell asleep.

Neal woke up, and he was in his room with the sun streaming through his window. He still felt drained, so he knew he'd only been asleep for several hours, not days. It took all the determination he could muster to get out of bed and get dressed. He made his way, slowly and stiffly, down the stairs, through the common room and kitchen, and down into the basement. Ahrei was there, sitting in a comfortable chair between the tables that functioned as beds for Maron and Roald. She looked up and smiled when he came in.

"There's no change from last night, or I should say this morning." Ahrei said. "Gary the Elder and Buri went to the palace. My father is still asleep, and I sent Dom to bed as well. Young Gary is in that little room. He told me he was sorry for getting me involved in this, but I must be honest, I'm not sure what he meant."

Neal looked over at Roald. "Anything about him strike your attention?" Ahrei looked over him with slow, gray eyes.

"His body took quite a beating, but he's got a strong spirit under all that. He's very handsome, if you ignore the dirt and cuts. He's been branded as a bond servant and a murder, and there's something else, something odd about him." She looked back to Neal.

"His name's Roald—Prince Roald of Conté." Neal said as calmly as he could.

Ahrei didn't blink. "What?" She asked.

"The man whose life you helped save this morning is Prince Roald of Conté, the rightful king of Tortall."

Ahrei looked at Roald again and her eyes got large. "He—why didn't I see it before?"

"Spell." They both turned at the sound of young Gary's voice. He stood in the doorway of the side room with the book, The Principles of Sight, tucked under his arm. "A powerful mage put a spell on him so people wouldn't see him for what he was, or something like that. Of course, there are all sorts of ways to get around it." Gary sat down at the foot of Roald's table and set the book on it. "Oh, and I figured some things out last night. Roald is the rightful king, I'm the boy of books, and you're the green healer."

"What?" Ahrei and Neal said together.

"In the Gennature Prophecy."

"I'm not in any prophecies." Neal said.

"Yes you are."

"How can you know that for sure?" Neal demanded.

"Just trust me," Gary said, "and the prophecy says so." He added. "Face it, Neal, you are the green healer. I've got to go; one of my father's agents is coming." With that Gary left, bounding up the stairs with all the energy of a young boy.

Neal felt suddenly even more tired. He sank down and, since there were no chairs around, ended up on his knees on the floor. Ahrei put a cool hand on his cheek. "You have a bit of a fever." She said mildly. He nodded. She guided his head down to her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "You should be back upstairs in bed. Papa and I can handle this for now."

"I couldn't sleep up there knowing…"

Ahrei continued to stroke his hair. "Then sleep down here." She said, and Neal closed his eyes.


	21. Fever

Corus, Tortall 

_Summer, 458 H.E._

Roald opened his eyes. At least he thought he had until he realized he still couldn't see anything. On top of that, he was in the most tremendous pain, though he would never again think pain couldn't get worse. He tried his eyes again and this time was greeted by a very dim, very blurry, and unrecognizable scene. The pain intensified and he tried to moan, but his voice didn't work. He felt like he was being burned from the inside out.

"His fever's climbing again," said a woman's voice, but Roald didn't recognize the words. The coolness of a healer's magic flowed through him, clearing his mind and, for a moment, he stared up into gentle, gray eyes. Then the pain took over, and Roald black out again.

Later Roald would remember only a few things from the weeks he spent in and out of consciousness, burning with fever. One was Ahrei's gray eyes, which were almost always staring into his when the pain was at its least. Another was the delusion of racing a younger boy, both of them laughing and happy. This illusion—a memory from his youth—always started the same and ended in one of two ways: he would dart ahead, good naturally leaving the younger boy behind, or the boy would turn into the Gennature Commander. In the latter instance, Roald was never able to run fast enough, and whoever was in the basement would be jarred out of his or her quiet activities by his screams. The third thing could have been a dream brought on by the fever, reality, or both. It was his mother holding his hand and anxiously watching his face. The last thing that he brought away with him was different. It was a single occurrence in Roald's mind and was amazingly clear given his state at the time. In this vision Mithros was standing in the foreground with Roald. God ordered prince to keep fighting and get well, and then he laid a gold crown on Roald's head. In the background stood the Mother Goddess, and in her wake stood five people whose faces Roald could not see. Then the gods and the others left, Roald's mind fogged, and the delirious plight of fever once again took hold.

"His body's seen some awfully hard times," an elderly man was saying when Roald woke up. He was tired, stiff, sore, aching, thirsty, hungry, and queasy, but for the first time in weeks he didn't feel the pain of burning. What was more, he could think and see with a certain level of clarity, "and the fever's breaking." The elderly man went on. Roald decided the man was talking about him.

"So he might make it?" Another man said, his tone dry but hopeful. "I don't think I'd be able to face Thayet if, after everything, he died now."

"More than anyone else, that's up to him now." The first man answered. "Dom, how's that bandage looking?"

Roald didn't hear a response, because out of nowhere someone started talking to him. "Good afternoon, highness," a young boy said. Roald turned his head and saw him. He was small and skinny with a mop of brown hair that fell into his eyes. "For a while there they were afraid you weren't going to make it. You had Neal mighty upset, but you look better to me."

The boy's chatter had drawn the others over. The elderly man spoke and Roald felt magic ease his aches. "Highness, I'm Almen Tarma. I've been one of your healers for the past several weeks, and I must admit that you had us very scared for some time. How do you feel?"

Roald tried to talk but couldn't. Almen motioned to someone Roald couldn't see and a glass was pressed against his lips. The cool water going down his dry throat was the most wonderful sensation he'd felt in a long time. When the glass was taken away he tried again to speak. "Better." He said. His voice was still weak and dry, but at least it worked.

"Good." Almen said. Since he had come over, he hadn't stopped checking Roald with hands and magic. "Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"I fell."

"And can you tell me your name?"

"Roald Wilima."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen." Almen looked to someone for confirmation. "Why?"

"I'm trying to asses how much damage the fever did." Almen explained. "Are you hungry?"

Roald was pretty certain that if he tried to eat he'd throw up, so he shook his head despite how hungry he felt.

"Don't worry," Almen said, "you'll get your appetite back soon." Roald nodded. He could feel himself drifting back into sleep. Almen saw it too. "Rest is the best thing for you right now." Almen told him. Roald closed his eyes, and as he did he heard someone say, "Gary, go tell Thayet."

For the next week Roald mostly slept. When he was awake he met everyone. Dom was the easygoing, young man who ran most of the day-to-day operations in the basement infirmary. Gary the Elder and Buri Roald remembered from before. Almen was a steady healer, but Roald could tell he didn't have as much invested in the basement room as the others did; when his patients were better he'd go home. Neal was Dom's cousin, though in many ways his opposite, and an amazing healer. The younger Gary was, despite his youth, an unending source of information or stories. And then there was Ahrei, who had fire burning beneath her gentle, reserved beside manner.

Roald drank a lot of water during this time, and after his first four meals, which he threw up, he ate a lot, too. He was weak, from prison, flight, and the fever, so his recovery progressed slowly. Thayet came often and sat by his bed, though they didn't talk much. Maron also didn't talk a lot, though he recovered first and was treated with respect. Once Roald was strong enough to stand, he was in a hurry to leave. Neither Gary the Elder nor the healers would allow him to go further than the kitchen, however. Being in Corus made him nervous, so he took to pacing.


	22. Race

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_End of summer, 458 H.E._

Andera was exhausted and covered in dust and mud from head to toe, but she had never been more satisfied with herself. She could once again see the roofs of Rahallow and there was no one near her—ahead or behind. She'd lost track of many of the other riders during the two and a half days she'd been running the race, but she knew for sure she'd stayed ahead of most of them. Kaji jumped from her saddle horn to her shoulder, catching her excitement. Clicking her tongue, she started her mare again and trotted down to the edge of the town.

A large crowd greeted her, which confirmed that she'd come in well. Above the cheering, Andera picked out the sound of her own name. Searching the happy faces flooding around her as she crossed the finish line, she spotted Kel, Iness, Daecon, Evin, and his family. She smiled at them and waved before dropping gratefully from the saddle. Mere moments after her feet hit the ground, Daecon picked her up in a tight hug. Kel patted her back.

"Third place." She said, a huge, proud smile on her face. "The boy from Trebond came in first and then someone else ridding for the Rider's Own."

"The boy came in this morning." Evin explained as he and Iness joined them. "But Kevan only beat you by a few hours, and he knows all the short cuts." Evin added with a wink. "The tavern's real proud of you, lass."

"We all are." Iness said as Daecon finally set her back on her feet and gathered her mare's reigns.

An older man was pushing his way through the crowd towards them, and Iness and Evin moved aside so he could stop in front of Andera. He was tall and wrinkled, with tufts of gray hair growing out of the sides of his head, but his boyish grin lit up his face. "Name's Adam Arlingtan and I sponsor these races." He introduced himself, holding his hand out to Andera. As he studied her face, a strange expression crossed his face. "What's your name, then, darling?" He said at last.

"Andera of Mindelan."

"And how old are you? Just for curiosities sake." He asked, still studying her closely.

"Eleven."

He grinned again. "Well little one, here's your winnings." He handed her a heavy brown leather purse. "Hope to see you ride again. Next year maybe."

"Maybe." Andera answered with a smile directed at Iness. He grinned back at her despite himself.

"Well, good day to you all." He waved at them then started back through the crowd, to watch for the rest of the finishers, though Andera had won the last of the prize money.

"Congrats, Kit." Evin said, his tone preoccupied. "I'll meet you back at the tavern tonight. Horses will be up for sale tomorrow." With a frown, he followed where Adam had pushed through the crowd.

"I wonder what's on his mind?" Kel asked, watching Evin leave.

Daecon looked between Kel and Andera, a frown creasing his own brow. Andera was too excited to notice much. Strangers where patting her back or shoulders and congratulating her as they passed. Her winner's purse was heavy in her hand, and the thrill of the race was still pounding through her veins.

"You should get a bath, Kit." Iness said, messing her hair. "I'll make us reservations at the tavern for a celebratory dinner tonight. And I wrote to Pa saying we'd leave tomorrow afternoon. You can get Oranie's horse in the morning."

"I'll come with you, Iness." Kel said, following her older brother as he started off towards the tavern. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Daecon pulled on her hand. "Come on, let's get your mare unsaddled." He said, drawing her off towards the corrals.

"Why's everyone frowning?" Andera asked, watching after Kel and Iness, and annoyed at them for not being as happy as she was. "And why's Iness in such a hurry to get back to Mindelan. They've found me after all, and it's not like I'm getting in trouble or anything here."

"I agree with Sir Iness." Daecon said, sounding slightly preoccupied. Andera looked sharply at him, but he ignored her. "Sir Iness just doesn't like having all of you out and about. It just ain't safe, 's all. And Lady Kel don't want to go one bit. She likes it with them tavern people, learning t'fight and such. I think that's what she wants t'talk t'Sir Iness about."

"And what's wrong with you?" Andera demanded after she'd absorbed all he'd said about Kel.

"That boy who cam in first—" Daecon began then shook his head. "Nothin' much. Never mind."

"Daecon." Andera warned.

"He just looked mighty familiar, tis all. It's got me curious." Daecon answered, still sounding preoccupied and not looking at her.

"You're not making any sense." Andera said, giving up. "Take care of her while I bathe. I'll see you at dinner." Without waiting for a response, Andera turned around and headed back to Evin's house.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Iness asked when they reached the tavern, which was fairly empty as the crowd was still waiting along the finish line. Kel had been forcefully quiet during their walk.

Taking a deep breath to gather her nerve, Kel looked up at Iness. "When you ride home tomorrow I want to stay here." She said. Iness froze and stared at her. "Just a little longer, Iness, I promise. And this has nothing to do with Kit, so don't even think about yelling at her. I want to stay for me. All I'm asking for is half a year at the most, Iness. I'll agree to come back by Midwinter if you say so, and I'll go to Corus next year without a fuss. But I _like_ the Rider's Own. They're teaching me to fight, and I just want to _learn_." Kel paused and took another deep breath. That was one of the longest speeches she'd ever given. "This is the happiest either of us have been since coming to Tortall." She whispered, looking down.

Iness grabbed her shoulders then forced her gaze up to meet his. He studied her without speaking for a long moment. Finally he said, "Alright. You can stay and learn, Kel. I'll speak with our parents when I get back to Mindelan, and we'll let you know when we need you back home."

"Thank you." Kel whispered.


	23. Birthright

_Corus, Tortall_

_End of summer, 458 H.E._

"I'm leaving." Roald said stubbornly. Gary the Elder shook his head, only half listening to the prince. He was going through coded reports from his agents in the desert, and they took most of his concentration. Roald gritted his teeth, his temper boiling. "I said I'm _leaving_."

"You can't leave." Buri said matter-of-factly. "You're the king."

Roald whirled on her. He was tired of this silly argument. "I am not a king." He said slowly. "Or hadn't you noticed." He yelled. "Did you not realize that the Riders don't even exist anymore. That you and Raoul both are exiles from Corus. That my mother is married to a Gennature."

Gary put his papers aside and resigned himself to the argument. "It's your birth right and your responsibility, highness."

"Don't call me that." Roald spat. "It's not mine anymore. I don't want it anymore. If you don't like the Gennature—fine. Get rid of them. Be my guest. But leave me out of it."

"Now listen, here, Roald." Buri said, standing and resting her fists on the table. "You don't know what you're parents went through to rule Tortall. What people sacrificed in the war. You have no idea what is at stake here. You can't walk away from it."

"I can and I will." Roald said. "I'll never be king."

"Tell us where you're goin' at least." Young Gary said, sitting down on the top step of the basement.

"Stay out of this, Gary." His father ordered, but Roald ignored him. He _liked_ young Gary, and there was something in his eyes now that said maybe he'd help.

"I don't know for sure. Towards the coast, I think, and then maybe further south."

Gary shrugged. "You should at least know where you're headed before you take off." He said, standing up again and leaving.

Roald turned to the older Gary and Buri. "Another week." He said. "I'll stay another week."


	24. Alone

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_End of summer, 458 H.E._

Andera was just getting out of her bath when she was suddenly no longer alone in the room. With a startled shriek, she dropped back into the water. The Mother Goddess, as beautiful and powerful looking as Andera remembered, stood at the foot of the tub. She looked at Andera and smiled. She held out a hand that was holding a beautiful, lavender robe where none had been before. Hesitantly, Andera took the robe and climbed out of the bath, wrapping it quickly around her body. It was soft, smooth, and warm, like no material Andera had ever felt before. The Goddess gestured to the armchair in the corner of the room, and Andera sat.

"I wish you hadn't done that, you know?" The Goddess said, her voice still all beauty and terror. Andera resisted the urge to clamp her hands over her ears.

"Done what?"

"Entered the race. It could cause problems I hadn't foreseen," her expression changed from disapproving to thoughtful, "though the rumors might work to our advantage after all." The Goddess seemed to be talking more to herself than to Andera, so Andera said nothing. Kaji climbed up onto her lap to steady her while she waited. Finally the Goddess turned her attention back to Andera. "I have a job for you, Kitten." She said.

"Alright." Andera replied shakily.

"Humans, it seems, are even more unpredictable and undependable than I'd originally thought. First I have to chase you all over the kingdom and now _this_." Again the Goddess seemed to be talking to herself.

"I don't understand."

Regaining her composure, the Goddess fixed deep, green eyes on Andera. "Prince Roald of Conté is alive and important to my plans." She explained flatly. "However, he is straying from the path my brother and I have laid out for him. I need you, Kitten, to find him and stay with him. You must help him find his destiny."

A thousand questions burst into Andera's mind. Where was she to find him? How had he stayed alive all these years? How was she supposed to help him? But the Goddess didn't give her time to ask even a single one. "Kaji will guide you, Kitten, and you _must_ go," was all the Goddess said before disappearing.

Feeling alone and unsure, Andera pulled the robe more tightly around her and hugged Kaji to her chest. As she sat there, the implications of the Goddess' order struck her. Iness was not going to agree with her on this. She _could_ tell him the Goddess had ordered it, but something about that course of action seemed wrong. She would tell no one about the Goddess, at least for now, but she did need Iness to let her not return back with them. She doubted the prince was sitting conveniently around at Mindelan.

Still without a clear plan of action, Andera dressed and headed over to the tavern. Iness, Kel, and Daecon were already seated, and Andera joined them without speaking. Dinner was a silent affair. Andera noticed a slight tension between Kel and Iness, and Daecon was still absorbed in his own thoughts. She often caught him watching her from below lowered lashes. Andera herself was thinking about her most recent meeting with the Goddess. Kel and Daecon excused themselves as soon as they finished dessert, Kel offering Andera a weak congratulations as she stood.

"Iness," Andera started as soon as Kel and Daecon were gone, "I'm sorry but I want to stay—"

"No!" Iness interrupted, his hazel eyes dark with anger.

"But you don't understand." Andera said, letting the smallest bit of pleading enter her voice. She'd always been able to talk him around before. "There is just something I need to do. I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise. And I'll be good."

"No." If anything, Iness seemed to be getting angrier with her. Andera stared at him. "I won't permit it."

"Iness," Andera was really begging now. She'd never seen him this angry before. "I _have_ to. I want to go home, really. And I'll be fine, trust me."

"Trust you!" Iness jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over and slamming his fist on the table, making Andera jump. "You give me no reason to trust you. I'll permit Kel to remain and learn to fight, but not you."

"Iness—"

"If you want to run again, Andera, then there's nothing I can do to stop you. But I won't carry any more lies back home to Pa, and I won't give you my blessing. If you go, you go alone."

Tears clouding her vision, Andera got up and ran from the tavern. She threw herself back onto her bed at Evin's house, glad Kel wasn't there, and cried into her pillow. Kaji curled up by her and licked her hand with her rough, warm tongue, making Andera feel only a little less alone.


	25. Theif

_Adder Creek Road__, Scanra_

_Beginning of fall, 458 H.E._

Jasson was, as always, cold. They'd left the City of the Gods and headed north despite the time of year, hiking through the forest to cross the boarder into Scanra unnoticed. Liam had whined and complained openly since leaving, so Jasson said nothing about being cold, tired, hungry, or leaving Lianne behind. Once they'd crossed the boarder they'd turned east, headed for the Gallan boarder, Jasson guessed. The north had been hit by an early storm, and though it wasn't snowing now, the road was piled up to Jasson's thighs with banks of snow. They walked in single file along the center of the road, George breaking through the drifts, Jasson following at his heels, and Liam lagging behind.

Jasson hugged his arms tighter across his chest as the wind picked up, thinking about how they shouldn't have left Lianne behind—thinking but saying nothing. Since they'd left her their luck, which had always been bad, had gotten steadily worse. A week ago they'd gotten cornered by a rough pack of highwaymen and lost all the food, supplies, and money the Stanwicks had given them. George was trying to avoid busy roads and towns, so they were hard pressed to replace what they'd lost. Between the three of them, they carried only two jackets, one pair of shoes, three daggers, and a line they could use for fishing if they could break through the ice. Right now Jasson wore neither a coat nor the shoes, though they all wore scraps of fabric wrapped around their feet. Despite that and the fact that the robbers had left them the rest of their clothes, which were thick and warm, Jasson was wet and cold.

He looked up at George, who had his head bent slightly against the wind. He wanted to both blame George for their streak of bad luck and thank him for all he had done for them over the years. Instead, he dropped his eyes back to the ground and ducked his head against the wind, moving a little so George's body better blocked it. He moved his thoughts to the Stanwick's farm and Lianne who, if she was still alive, was probably sitting in front of a warm fire at that moment. Or helping Mady to prepare supper around a nice, warm stove. But dwelling on such things only made him that much colder, so he gave up on thinking and focused only on walking.

A few miles further down, the road opened up into a small clearing with the houses and buildings of the town of Adder Creek pressed up against the trees. One simple sweep of one's eyes revealed the entirety of the town, which was centered around a good sized inn. They stopped alongside a building on the edge of town, placing its walls between them and the wind. George looked over his shoulder at the two boys and, seeing their exhausted expressions, dug his hand into his pocket to see how much coin they had left. He sighed then smiled at them.

"We'll stay in that inn tonight."

"About time," Liam mumbled then brightened a bit. "Dinner?" He asked expectantly.

George fixed a stern gaze on him. "No stealing. Not here." He turned his gaze from Liam to Jasson then back. "Not even a little. Understand?" They both nodded, though Liam turned away from George to do it. "Alright," George said after a moment, "let's go inside."

They followed George obediently to the inn. A blast of warm air welcomed them when they stepped through the doors. The smell of spices and ale that was heavy in the air made Jasson's stomach clench with hunger. The inn was the only stop along the road for miles in both directions, so it was crowded with travelers, all gathered around tables or at the bar where the innkeeper was serving drinks. Three men who sat at a table near the door had on the uniform of the Gennature guard, and more men in uniform were drinking at the bar. Jasson shrank away from the guards and further into George's shadow. Liam ignored their presence, walking right past their table and hardly looking at them. They, in turn, paid no attention to him. George made Jasson hang back before they reached the bar, and he haggled with the innkeeper for several minuets before any coin passed between them.

"Come on boys," George said, leading them through the common room.

"Dinner?" Liam questioned again, but he got no answer.

The room George led them to had eight cots. They were pressed tightly together in the small room, but each one was covered with thick blankets. The noise from the common room came in through the wall and a ragged looking, older man slept in the farthest bed. With a scowl, Liam flung himself down onto the nearest one. "Dinner." He said again.

"I'm sure there's some fish in Adder Creek, which is just behind the inn." George answered.

"I'm stayin' here." Liam said quickly.

George settled an annoyed and impatient look on him. "Then give Jasson the shoes and coat."

Liam stuck out his lower lip and frowned. "It's too big for him. He'll drag the hem all in the snow and get it wet." George's look hardened and, with a whiney noise, Liam took off the coat and shoes, tossing them at Jasson. Both the coat and shoes were at least three sizes too big, but Jasson put them on gratefully, their warmth and dryness sinking into his bones.

The ice of the creek was broken along the bank by the town, but the heavy traffic from the inn kept the fish away. They followed the creek into the forest, George once again leading and breaking a path through the snow.

"You've been rather quiet lately, lad." George said once they were away from the noise of the inn. Jasson shrugged, though he knew George couldn't see it. "Are you mad at me too?" This time George looked over his shoulder and waited for Jasson's answer.

"I've got a right t'be." Jasson said, trying to avoid answering straight out.

"Not for this long, you don't."

"The three of us should a stuck together, that's all." Jasson said, not meeting George's eyes.

"You have no idea what the three of you should or shouldn't do, Jasson." George said, his voice hard.

Jasson looked up, anger burning in his hazel eyes. "'Cause you never tell us. You never tell us." He snapped. "All we know is each other, and we left her behind. I don't care what your reasons are."

George turned back around and Jasson felt instantly guilty but offered no apologies. They continued on in silence. They fished until it grew dark, breaking through the ice in four places and finding nothing. The walk back to the inn was as silent between them as the fishing had been.

The moment they stepped through the door to the inn, George put out his arm to stop Jasson, pushing him back behind him. Jasson peered around George's arm to see what was happening. All the Gennature guards were on their feet, gathered around one member of the guard whose pale face was bright red with anger. The rest of the guests had drawn back into the corners of the room and the innkeeper stood by the bar, bridging the gap between the guests and the guards. Three tattered boys and an older girl stood shaking in front of the guards.

"Sirs, I'll vouch for the boys." The innkeeper was saying. "They'd never steal from you."

"Perhaps you left it—" The girl began but she was cut off by a vicious slap from one of the guards that sent her sprawling on the ground.

"What seems to be the problem, good sirs?" George said as the girl fell. He stepped forward, his hands held palms up slightly in front of him so the guards would be sure to know he wasn't trying to attack them.

"It's none of your business." The innkeeper said, but the guards seemed interested.

"My good friend here is missing his purse and his keys." The commander explained, gesturing to the red faced guard. "He's in a hurry to get them back. You wouldn't happen to know anything of that, would you?" He asked, his tone implicating as he took in George's worn coat and lack of shoes.

"Hands." Another one of the guards ordered. His manner still open and friendly, George held out his hands, fingers spread and palms down then flipped them so the guards could see his wrists. "No criminal brands." The guard said. Jasson glanced at the girl, who had grabbed hold of the boys and was pulling them away to shelter behind the innkeeper.

"Check him anyway." The red faced guard ordered. The guard who had checked George's hands for brands stepped forward to turn out his pockets. "The boy too." The guard added, his eyes landing on Jasson. George snapped his head around as Jasson stepped back towards the door. One of the guards grabbed his upper arm and flung him forward. Jasson stumbled then caught his balance as another guard clamped a hand over his shoulder.

"Hands." Jasson heard the order without seeing who said it. The blood rushing in his veins, he held out his hands for the guard in front of him to inspect. Jasson didn't dare look at George, and he knew anything George said in his defense would just make the guards more interested. "He's clean, Damric."

"Check his pockets and hand that coat over here. It's big enough on him to hide half the money in this pathetic town."

Jasson struggled quickly out of the coat, and one of the guards grabbed it from his hands. Jasson dropped his gaze to the ground and the guards dug into his pockets, the grip on his shoulder still tight. "What do we have here?" Jasson snapped his gaze back up, meeting the accusing glare of the commander, who held the coat, a large black belt purse, and a ring of keys.

"Sirs—" George began but was cut off as one of the guards rammed the hilt of his sword into his stomach. George doubled over from the impact, but his eyes never left Jasson.

"I swear I didn't. I…" Jasson stammered.

"This could be considered crimes against the Tortallan crown," the commander said slowly. Panic rising in his chest, Jasson looked to George, who was kneeling on the ground, his eyes locked on Jasson. He shook his head slowly, his expression something Jasson never wanted to see on his face again. He looked defeated. "You could be sent to the mines, at the least, if we decide it's worth our effort."

"Please," Jasson said without taking his eyes off George. If he looked away he would lose the strength that kept him standing.

"Now the evidence is against you, boy, so there's no need for us to waste time on a trial." The commander continued.

"There's never a need to waste a trial on the likes of _him_." Someone else said. Jasson's breathing was growing steadily quicker. George had cleared his face of that awful expression, and his eyes were reassuring.

"Quite right," the commander said and there was a smile in his voice. "So we'll cut you a break, boy. Won't we, Damric? You'll have to be marked a thief, there's no way around that, but we can just do it here and save us all a trip back to the nearest fort." Jasson heard nothing after 'marked.' Another hand clamped over his other shoulder, and he was pushed forward.

"Jasson," George said, jumping to his feet only to be forced down again by more blows from the man's hilt.

"George," Jasson gasped as he was pulled away. The weight on his shoulders pressed down, but he didn't give until someone hit the backs of his legs. One of the guards pulled out of his belt a long, iron rod with a small raised "T" on the end. He handed it to the still-red-faced guard, who thrust it into the coals of the fire. Jasson's mind whirled, and his ears buzzed as he watched.

George got more slowly to his feet, and this time no one pushed him back down. He moved so Jasson would have to turn his head away from the hearth to see him. "Jasson," he called, and the boy slowly dragged his terrified gaze away from the iron and the fire. George knelt at the edge of the crowd and held Jasson's eyes with his own. "Everythin'll be alright, lad." He whispered, and though everyone around heard it, the comment seemed to be for Jasson's ears alone. "You're alright."

"I swear I didn't." Jasson said, tears now wetting his checks. He needed at least George to believe him.

George smiled a sad smile. "I know you didn't, lad." He assured him.

Someone grabbed Jasson's right hand and slammed in onto the table, pressing down until he spread his fingers, exposing the skin between his thumb and forefinger. Jasson turned his head away again as the angry guard pulled the iron out of the fire. George gave him a small nod and he closed his eyes, trying to force his mind anywhere else. The pain was sudden and like nothing he'd ever felt or imagined before. Jasson screamed. He would have fallen completely to the floor as his body went limp with pain, but his hand was being forcefully held on top of the table. Jasson gripped the table leg with his other hand as the pain continued and pressed his forehead against the smooth wood. The iron was removed but his hand still burned, then the guards dripped a few drops of something onto his burn that, despite its coolness, sent a whole new wave of pain through his body. The guard released his hand and it slid off the table. His eyes still tightly closed, Jasson cradled his hand against his chest and curled himself into the tightest ball he could manage. He thought of nothing but the pain in his hand.

Strong arms gripped his shoulders, and Jasson opened his eyes to meet George's gaze. "You still with me, lad?" George asked. Jasson could hear the effort it was costing him to sound cheerful.

Slowly, Jasson nodded. From his position he could see that the guards had left the inn and that the guests had gone back to the tables on the other side of the room. The innkeeper still stood by the bar, the four other children crouched on the floor behind him.

"Someone fetch a healer." George said. His voice was quiet, but it was clear he expected his command to be obeyed.

"No sir." The innkeeper said, taking a few steps closer to them. "I won't have ye staying here any longer. It's unhealthy to court the Gennature's wrath and ye're Tortallan to boot. I want ye all out of my inn." George looked away from Jasson to the innkeeper but not quick enough to keep the boy from seeing the anger in his gaze. He stood up slowly, his attention focused entirely on the innkeeper, who took a small step back.

Desperate, Jasson grabbed clumsily for George, catching hold of his wrist. "Stay." He begged. George turned back to him, his hazel eyes kind and reassuring. Gently he removed Jasson's fingers.

"I'm going to get you a healer, Jasson, and I'll still be right here. You'll be able to see me the whole time. Alright?"

Taking a deep breath, Jasson nodded. George walked over to the innkeeper, who quickly put the bar between their bodies, trying to look like all was just business. "I want a healer." George said, his tone brokering no argument. "And then I want your best room made up with your nicest quilts and a warm bath drawn. You can send three bowls of hot, strong soup up for our suppers."

The innkeeper drew his thin lips into a tight line. "Your coin won't cover that, sir, but ye can stay the night as ye paid. Ye can bargain with the healer yourself."

His eyes never leaving the innkeeper's face, George fingered the wedding band he wore. The gold caught the light as he drew it off his finger and pressed it into the innkeeper's hand. "That'll cover it." He said simply. "I want someone to fetch a healer." With a look from the innkeeper, the girl stood and ran out the door.

George returned to Jasson, settling beside him on the floor. He put his arms around his shoulders and drew the boy close to him as they both waited for the healer to come.

* * *

A/N—This is all I've got typed up right now and I'm trying to focus on Horizons, so it might be awhile until I can get another segment posted. However, I am hoping to finish this story soon. 


	26. Welcome

_Rahallow, Tortall_

_Fall, 458 H.E._

Kel spun away and brought her sword up. Evin blocked, pushing her sword aside, and darted back, refusing to press his advantage. Kel also withdrew, breathing heavily. They both lunged forward again at the same moment. Their wooden practice swords met with a sharp thud that bounced off the garden walls. Their hilts locked and Kel smiled, pushing down with all her weight. Evin grinned and dropped, rolling away from her. Kel had seen him use the move on dozens of opponents before, but she adjusted her weight as he dropped and didn't lose her balance. Evin blocked her sword from a kneeling position and turned as he stood, keeping their blades touching between them. Kel continued to press him, not wanting to give him a chance to fully regain his feet. He blocked each blow. He was a much better swordsman than she, and he was quick and agile, but she'd learned to fight on Yamani. Using a burst of speed and energy she'd been holding back, she darted in close, coming up underneath his guard to press the tip of her sword lightly against his throat.

Applause burst out around the garden. Kel had forgotten there were so many people watching. She lowered her sword. "You gave me that one." She accused.

Evin grinned at her. "I never 'give' anything away. Helped a little, maybe." Someone brought them jugs of water and Evin poured half of his over his head before drinking. Kel took two huge gulps then splashed some on her face. The water was from the tavern, ice cold and flavored just slightly with lemon.

Evin handed his empty jug to the woman standing behind him. "Lunch," he declared. There was more scattered applause and a few shouts. Half a dozen people, Kel was still sorting out names, went into the tavern to bring out food.

The members of the Rider's Own in the Rahallow area had been gathered for training in the courtyard since dawn and sheets were spread out between the trees. A few tents were set up against the back wall for those who had come from more than a day's ride away, including two young women who worked at fief Treabond. Kel sat down with them on a bed roll they'd drag out from their tent. She knew their names were Kira and Kate, but she couldn't remember which one was which. She thought Kate was the redhead.

"That was nicely done." The other girl said. Kel was fairly sure it was Kira. "You're the first person I've seen who can dance around Evin."

"He's still a lot better than me." Kel argued.

"I was just talking about footwork." Kira said. "Aint no one who wasn't a warrior before that's a better swordsman than Evin."

"And aint no one period that's a better archer. We're lucky to have him up north with us." Kate said. "Jaimie said you're from further north—Mindelan area."

"That's right."

"Said you're noble and such." Kate continued. Kel nodded, not sure what the two girls would think about that. "And that you lived and trained in Yamani."

"Yes."

Kate glanced at Kira then turned back to Kel and smiled. "Now that's all that matters, then," she said. "Welcome to the Rider's Own."


	27. Out

_The River Drell_

_On the boarder of Scanra and Galla_

_Fall, 458 H.E._

Jasson woke up with a start. Darkness was heavy around him as the last feelings of the dream drifted away. He stared up at the cloudy sky until his eyes adjusted to the starless, moonless night. No breezes stirred, making the cold even deeper. Jasson huddled further down into his bedroll. Around him he heard snoring and the whimpers of sleeping dogs, the sounds of night that he'd come to associate with the trade caravan they'd joined up with four days before. He felt safer and warmer surround by the merchants and their Doi companions. He was full and warm like he hadn't been in a long time but that didn't stop the nightmares that woke him up every night. He went to sleep alone each night and woke up long before the sun from dreams he couldn't say anything about, except that they made him feel the loss of Lianne and then Liam like a knife against his throat, and they made his hand sting.

Jasson ran his left thumb over the black 'T' on his right hand. As the dream continued to fade so did the pain. "Lad?" Jasson jumped then turned so he could see George's outline in the dark. He was propped up on an elbow, watching Jasson. "Does it hurt?"

Jasson tucked his hand back under the blanket. "Only for a bit when I wake up."

"Which you've taken to doing at odd hours of the pre-dawn lately."

Jasson frowned. "Do you ever miss anything?" He was no longer mad at George—for Lianne or whatever had happened with Liam—but he didn't like the feeling that George knew and saw everything he did.

"Not much." George answered. "How long?"

"Since," Jasson answered. He didn't need to add 'Adder Creek,'—everything that was 'since' was 'since Adder Creek' and George knew that.

George leaned over and gently drew Jasson's hand out. He ran his own thumb over the mark. "I don't know, Jay." He said after a moment. "What do you think?"

"I want to get out of Scanra." Jasson answered.

"We're almost there."

"And I don't want to go back to Tortall." He added. George shook his head and started to say something. "I know why you think I need to." Jasson said quickly, keeping George from speaking. "I know who my parents were. I don't want to go back." He spread his fingers. The 'T' caught a light that wasn't there and stood out starkly against Jasson's dirty hand. "I'm no prince." He added in a whisper.

George was silent for a long time. Finally he reached over again and folded Jasson's fingers against his palm, covering the half of the 'T' that still showed with his own hand. His other hand he placed against Jasson's chest. "There is more to being a prince than all that, Jasson." He voice was so quiet Jasson had to lean forward to understand. "And you've got plenty of that. You've the heart and the courage you need, more than enough. And Tortall's my home—you're country. We'll take a round-a-bout way, but we'll always be headed back there." George leaned back.

"What happened with Liam?" Jasson asked.

George didn't look at him when he answered. "I'm afraid I lost my temper with him. I crossed a line I shouldn't have, and he'd had enough of our life and our luck."

Jasson smiled. "Our luck's been better since." He said. He thought maybe he should be angrier with George for his part and Liam's flight, but when he really thought about it, he'd rather have George around.

"You gonna sleep anymore, lad?"

Jasson shook his head. "Never do."

"Then let's get a fire going. Out of the way of the others."

Jasson nodded, gathering his blanket around him for warmth as he followed George away from the main part of the camp. "Now that I know and such, could you tell me more? About my parents, or Roald perhaps. Anything."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"You were a thief before. How'd you meet my father?"

They built up a pile of small logs and twigs, and George carefully coaxed a flame out of them. Only after they were burning well did he settle back and start. "Through my wife, and how I met her isn't something you need to know. She and John were friends, and she started bringing him around the Dancing Dove. We learned a lot from each other. We understood each other." George smiled and lay down, pillowing his head on his hands. "You're father…" Jasson leaned forward, the flames from the fire hot on his face and his blanket keeping the cold off his back. He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. Letting the stories wrap around him, he drifted off into half sleep.

When Jasson woke again it was long past sunrise and the camp was alive around him. The fire had burned down to embers. The clouds had drawn over to the west, piled against the mountains, and though the sun gave off little warmth, its rays made the morning more cheerful. The merchants whistled or hummed as they packed up the camp. At noon they reached the river ford. The merchants were to continue north and the Doi planned to accompany George and Jasson across the boarder into Galla. They ate lunch together then the Doi loaded their people and ponies onto the flat bottomed rafts that would take them both across and several miles up the river to one of many unguarded places the Doi used to cross boarders. It took them the rest of the day to travel up the river, but they slept that night inside at one of the few outposts the Doi kept occupied year around. Though Jasson couldn't even guess at the cause, he slept soundly that night.


	28. Dependance

_Corus, Tortall_

_Late fall, 458 H.E._

Neal looked around, making sure no one on the street was paying any attention to him, then took the steps up to the sick house doors two at a time. "Neal," he froze, stopped mere steps from the door. He debated pretending he hadn't heard her and continuing inside, but that would be petty. He turned around. Ahrei was standing across the street, and he could see she'd been hidden in the shadows before. The wind of early winter whipped her gray skirts around her legs and her hair across her face. She met his eyes, and, with just a stern look, she beckoned him back down the steps and across the street. Her expression softened as he approached.

"What are you doing?" Ahrei asked. Her question was not accusatory, but Neal felt himself become immediately defensive.

"Were you following me?" He demanded, his tone coming out even harsher than he had intended. Ahrei stepped back like he had slapped her, but her resolve didn't falter.

"Yes," she said, "because we're worried about you. _I'm_ worried about you."

"Did Dom send you to follow me?"

Ahrei dropped her gaze. "I don't want you to get hurt." She whispered then her voice strengthened. "Corus is a horrible city to be a healer in, Neal. Don't you see that?"

"You're still here." Neal said. He felt like a brute for being mean to her, but he was as desperate to get his point across as she was.

"Father loves Corus." Ahrei answered. "It's where he started. But even he doesn't take healing as seriously as you do. He won't needlessly risk his life for it. The Gennature guard is accusing healers who don't treat Gennature of treason and pulling them out of their beds at night. Angry Tortallans are attacking sick houses that do treat Gennature and beating healers to death in alleyways. You can't win."

"I can't just—"

Ahrei reached out and took his hands, drawing him closer to her. "Things will calm down—go back to normal. I'm asking you not to heal today."

"But it's our fault. You and me and your father and Dom. It's because of us that the Gennature are doing this. They don't know it was us, but they know someone in the city healed Roald."

"What if what Gary says is true? If you're the healer in the prophecy, isn't that more important? This stuff in Corus will happen with or without you. Corus has been destroying itself regularly since the Conquering. You owe the city nothing, but you do owe Tortall more than dying in some dark corner of the city."

"Roald left, Ahrei. He ran out on the prophecy. And there is no prophecy without a king."

"I don't believe it's over just like that. And I don't care either way. If all that stuff isn't enough for you to leave here with me." She dropped her head and let her hair fall between them so he couldn't see her face. "Think about your father and Dom. They need you."

"Dom doesn't need me." She gave a soft, sad laugh.

"He does. He doesn't like you to know it, but he needs you. And…and maybe I need you."

Neal felt like a fool. She'd come after him desperate and pleading, and he had pushed away—assumed Dom had sent her to bring him back. And it wasn't just now, but for weeks, that he'd been treating her badly.

"Do you mean that?" Neal asked. Ahrei was silent. Neal touched his fingers to her chin and tilted her face up to his. There were tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Ahrei smiled. "Of course I meant it."

"Where are we going?" Neal asked without moving his fingers from her chin or his hand from hers.

She tuned her head, pressing her cheek against his palm. He could feel her tears. Then she took a deep breath and pulled away a little. "There's a picnic lunch ready at the inn. We can get out of the city for a little bit at least. You'll come with me?"

"Wherever you ask." She looked doubtful. "I promise." Ahrei nodded and Neal let her lead him away.


	29. Beginings

_Aberdon, Tortall_

_On the Great Road East near the crossing of the Tirragen River_

_End of fall, 458 H.E._

Roald wasn't about to complain, even in his thoughts, but he was very wet and very muddy. He couldn't seem to find even enough room to stand where the ground wasn't in the same condition, much less somewhere to lay down his bedroll. Well, he _had_ decided to head southeast from Corus and it was fall, almost winter. Rain, he knew, was part of life. He walked further from the road but the ground slopped gradually down and just got wetter. Roald frowned. Lights in the distance represented a town that would be warm and dry, but Roald knew the risk was too great. The chance was too high that someone would see the black X's tattooed between his thumbs and forefingers that told the world he was a murderer. In the moonlight that filtered through the clouds the X's stood out bright silver against his skin.

"Hello?" Roald spun. Silhouetted against the moonlight was a thin, very feminine figure. Roald shoved his hands into his pickets and willed himself to disappear into the darkness. The woman didn't lose him, however. She stepped to the edge of the road and tilted her head to one side. Though she was only five or six feet away from him, the angle of the moonlight made her face impossible for him to see.

She, however, didn't seem to have any trouble seeing him clearly. "Roald Wilima." She said. Her voice was friendly and inviting. She came down the slope from the road, picking her way carefully over the soggy ground, until he could see her. She was as pretty as her hourglass figure had implied. Moonlight caught on the waves of her hair and reflected gold. Silver powder framed light blue eyes, and she wore more face paint than Roald thought was needed to accent her looks. Her coat was inexpensive, coarse wool, but her dress was fringed with lace.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" She asked. "Adalee Haffen, my uncle is…" She trailed off, seeing recognition on Roald's face. He remembered, maybe seven years ago, a shy, awkward blonde girl who liked to hang around the wagon.

"Didn't you live further south in Sampton or somewhere?"

"Mother married about four years back and we moved here. He's poor and a farmer, but a kind man. I was just on my way home from visiting them."

"Are you married? You—"

She smiled. "No, I just live where I work. I didn't know uncle was here. Mother sent—"

"He's not here." Roald interrupted. "I don't work for him anymore."

Her smile broadened. "You bought your way out. Congratulations. But why didn't he take you on as an apprentice? That doesn't sound much like Uncle."

Roald shrugged. "We didn't part on the best of terms."

Adalee tilted her head to the right, considering him. "Come on, you're coming back with me."

"No thanks," Roald said quickly, "I'm fine here."

"Nonsense," Adalee said, "it'll rain tonight," she dug the toe of her boot into the ground, "maybe even start the season's floods. You'd be miserable out here and Madam Brass loves strays."

Roald stepped back. The promise of a warm place to spend the night was so great he needed to put physical distance between himself and Adalee. "No, I really am fine."

Adalee didn't let him retreat. She put a hand on his elbow and started to lead him to the road. Roald couldn't help but follow. Her hand was warm and gentle. She smelled like earth and flowers. And he didn't want to sleep out in the rain again.

The rain started as a slight drizzle as soon as they reached the road. Adalee gave him a look that said 'I told you so' and let go of his elbow. They walked on in silence, and the rain got slowly heavier and the night darker. Through the gloom Roald saw the outline of a large house. The upper stories where all lit but the lower ones were dark. The house was built on stilts that raised it four feet off the ground and a wooden bridge connected the front door to the road. A wide porch wrapped all the way around the building.

Adalee led him inside and through a dark common room to a stair in the back. He followed her as the stair spiraled upward. When she opened a door on the third floor sound and light poured out into the hallway. Before she'd opened the door he'd been unable to hear even the slightest sound, which meant the floor was warded with expensive magic. Roald was impressed.

The room was a bar and dance hall nearly full of people. "Hey, where'd the handsome one come from, Ady." Someone yelled.

"He better be handsome, Jem. He don't look like he can pay much." Another girl added.

"Ignore them." Adalee whispered. "Where's Madam?" She yelled to the girls.

"In the back." The second answered.

Adalee started around the corner and down a hallway that led further into the back but stopped when she noticed Roald wasn't following. She turned and held out her hand to him. "I thought you went by Ada." Roald said, still hanging back.

She shrugged. "I did but that's a little girls nickname. Ady does better for work." She snapped her fingers and beckoned to him. "Come on now. You've got to meet Madam Brass or you can't stay the night." When Roald hesitated still and she clicked her tongue. Roald started down the hall without giving her his hand; he still had them in his pockets.

The hallway was short and narrow. Adalee pushed open the door at the end. Madam Brass was a tall, slightly rounded woman with thick gray hair in a tight bun. She had laugh lines on her face, and it was clear to Roald she'd been a real beauty in her youth. She was kneeling on the floor and unpacking several wooden crates. She glanced up for a moment but didn't cease her work.

"How's your ma doing, Ada?" Madam Brass asked.

"She's feeling a little better." Ada answered. "She's tired of being stuck in bed."

Madam Brass smiled. "I can imagine. I bet she was glad to see you tonight, though."

"She was. I picked up something on the road on the way home."

"I noticed."

"He used to be a bond servant for my uncle. I was hopping he could stay a bit."

"Rules are you get one week for free. After that we find you a job or you move on your way. You don't bother my workers. Keep you hands off my girls when they're on my time, and otherwise only if you're invited. That last rule is the most important. You break the others you're out, you break that one and you go to the guards. Understand?"

Roald nodded then said, "Yes madam."

"There's a cot in the corner. Drop your stuff then Ada will get you something to eat."

"Thank you, Madam Brass."

"Thanks." Ada said and, smiling, led Roald back out to the hall.


	30. Course

_Crita, Galla_

_Winter, 458 H.E._

The market place in Crita was crowded and lively. Galla had not suffered as much from the war as Tortall had. Jasson moved unnoticed through the crown, his thoughts unoccupied. The thieves from Tortall said a Gennature's brand was bad luck and would get you caught, so Jasson had been carefully training his left hand. If he'd wanted, pick pocketing would have been easy. Instead he was eagerly taking in all the sites and sounds. He'd lost George a while back but he wasn't concerned. They'd meet back at the camp later, and George had promised something good for supper.

Suddenly Jasson's ease and relaxation evaporated. All his senses jumped to full wakefulness and the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He stopped. The crowd continued to flow around him. Then something happened to the air. It grew heavy around him and crackled with magic. People swerved to avoid him without noticing. Jasson felt terribly exposed even though it was clear no one else could feel or see anything. The feeling of magic increased, pressing on Jasson from all sides. The Gennature magic in his hand hummed in response, making his scar throb. His own magic, which he always kept hidden deep within, fought his rigid control. The combination of forces made him feel nauseated. He knew instinctively that the magic was neither Gennature magic nor the Tortallan Gift.

As suddenly as the change had begun, the air popped and a great, beautiful woman stood before him. Jasson glanced around quickly but there was still no one who saw them. The woman smiled at him in an almost motherly fashion and Jasson's nausea faded away.

"It is good to see you again, my prince." Her voice was reminiscent of a summer breeze shifting through pine needles, but it was powerful enough to make Jasson's knees weak.

Jasson felt he should kneel or bow in some fashion, but shock and nervousness kept him still. The woman seemed to understand and continued to smile at him.

"I'm sorry I could not come sooner, but you seem content." At first the word 'content' stuck Jasson as inappropriate, but then he nodded. Her smile saddened a bit. "I must admit I was a little worried. George Copper is not a patron of mine, and I was not sure he was up to the task." Jasson felt the urge to jump to George's defense, but she help up a hand. "My doubt way misplaced."

She went quiet, giving Jasson a chance to speak, but he had nothing to say. She laughed and it was a beautiful sound. "Kitten bombards me with questions every time I see her, but you are very silent." Jasson shrugged.

"Then I shall get right to it. Time is running short, and I have a task for you. There is an object, something of great power, which I intended to offer as a gift to you. However, it was impossible for me to take it into safekeeping myself, and I have just recently located it. This object is your birthright and now is the time for you to claim it. You must go and learn as much as you can while you have the time." Again she paused, but Jasson was still silent.

"You're destination is a clearing not far from here. You should leave on the north road then take the east fork. The road will turn and head south then northeast, but you must remain on it until you reach a creek where the road crosses on a green bridge. Follow the creek against its flow, and you won't be able to miss the clearing. The object is in the care of two vassals of your father. Don't fear if they know you. They will help you. I say again learn all you can. Your life, your future path, is unclear even to me. You, young prince, have an important path to walk. Do not stray, but do not hesitate. Keep always an open mind and learn—learn everything you can." Jasson started at her. "Do you understand?" She asked.

Jasson hesitated, thinking over everything she had said and trying to make sense of it. "No," he finally said, "I don't understand." She laughed again. Jasson thought he saw a few people pause for a moment then smile as they continued on their way.

"Well," she said and there was still laughter in her voice, "we'll just have to see how things progress. Go to the clearing and perhaps we'll talk again—perhaps we won't need to."

Jasson felt the air change again, though faster this time, and the woman was gone. Someone ran straight into Jasson and, looking startled, mumbled something to Jasson about stopping in the middle of the road. Jasson moved to the side and started walking slowly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his mind reeling.


	31. Destinies

_Aberdon, Tortall_

_Winter, 458 H.E._

Roald knelt in the mud and examined the two porch stilts that had Madam Brass concerned. Sure enough they were missing some nails and wobbled pathetically when he pushed them. The problem wasn't really the missing nails, though. The wood itself was worn and broken, especially where the stilts were fixed to the porch. They would both have to be replaced, along with a dozen others, come spring when the ground hardened. The job didn't sound fun but he smiled to himself—at least there'd still be a way for him to work for his keep. He set his box of tools on the porch and pulled out his hammer, four nails, and one of the small boards he used to brace the bad wood.

He'd finished the first stilt and was about to move on to the second when something jumped up on his knees and stuck a small black nose in his face. Startled, Roald looked up. A redheaded girl stood in front of him. She wore a brown, coarse wool skirt that was several inches too short and a cotton blouse that was too big. The animal jumped from Roald's knee and scurried up to the girls shoulder. It curled its body around her neck and watched him with beady green eyes.

By her clothing the girl looked indistinctive—any one of the farmers' children, usually young boys, who came around the house looking for handouts. However, her expression wasn't that of a child beggar. She gazed calmly and knowingly at him and when Roald met her gaze his stomach lurched. Her eyes were a light violet that he knew too well for his comfort.

The girl smiled and held out her hand to him. Roald shook it reluctantly. "Andera of Mindelan," she said, "Kit."

"Roald…Wilima." Roald answered. "What can I do for you? You seem a bit young to be looking for Madam Brass, not to mention high-blooded."

Kit sat down on the edge of the porch and the un-braced stilt groaned ominously. "The Goddess sent me to find you, but you probably have a better idea of why than I do, Highness."

Roald dropped the hammer, just missing his own foot. Kit watched it sink into the mud as Roald's mind reeled. If she really was who he thought she was, then it shouldn't be that surprising that she was sitting in front of him talking about the Goddess like that. But still doubt and questions whirled around in his head. He wanted to know where she'd been for the last nine years and how she'd become 'of Mindelan.' Was it possible he'd given up believing to soon?

"You know you dropped your hammer in the mud there?" Kit said.

"Yeah," Roald mumbled, now wondering where she'd learned to take things in stride like she was. Her expression and tone hadn't changed from her introduction through to her comment about his hammer. He envied her that ability.

"Anyway, the Goddess seemed fairly annoyed with you. If not for her ability to materialize herself and other things out of thin air, I'd almost say she was human the last time we talked. I think you and I are causing trouble for her. I know what it is I'm doing, but I still haven't quite got your part in all this out."

"What are you talking about?" Roald demanded. He didn't like the feeling he was being out paced by a girl who looked to be about eleven.

"Well, it seems simple to me. Either you are the king or you aren't."

"I'm not the king." Roald said harshly. That was the very last thing he wanted to talk about.

Kit shrugged. "Alright then, I might not hang around long. I kind of wouldn't mind—owe." Kit tipped her head so she could glare at her pet and rubbed her neck. After a moment she turned back to Roald. Later Roald could never make up his mind whether or not some sort of understanding passed between the animal and girl. "Alright, here's the deal. I wouldn't mind being able to go home and try to fix things with my brother, but since are destinies don't appear to be fully ours, we're stuck with each other. I promised Kel a year ago that I'd go with her when she had to be presented at court. Gods' will or no, I still plan on keeping that promise." Kaji chirped and licked her neck.

Kit looked over her shoulder at the house. "You're staying here or just working?"

"I'm living here but—"

"Great, it looks nice. Where do I sleep and is there anything to eat? Oh, sorry, you can finish first." She fished his hammer out of the mud and handed it to him then, hopping of the porch, crouched beside him and was quiet.


End file.
